


Fight for Your Life

by maychorian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Robin Hood, Angst, Backstory, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Lion Bonds, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Series, Pre-Series, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9982172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/pseuds/maychorian
Summary: A collection of ficlets based on prompts from tumblr.Chapter 1: For Platonic VLD Week! First prompt: Moonlight/SunlightWords: 1019Characters: Hunk and ShaySummary: Hunk wants to show Shay everything, and after the war, he finally gets the chance.





	1. Sunrise on Another World

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [It's Gonna be OKAY by the Piano Guys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5pBjopDymts).
> 
> And there is a battle raging in your heart, but you must win.  
> It comes for all of us, saying we are not enough.  
> So fight for your life. The world's gonna try to sell you some lies.

"I just want to show you everything," he told her. "When the war is over... There's so much to see. You think seeing the sky is great... Wow. There's a lot more. I want to show you everything."

Shay smiled, her face shining like the sky she loved so dearly, and Hunk smiled back.

It was a long war. A trying war. A draining war. Hunk saw things he'd never imagined, did things he never wanted to do, and lost more than he had ever known he had. But they won, in the end. Zarkon was defeated, the Galra Empire was broken, and local peoples were starting to figure out what freedom meant. Then, and only then, did Hunk get to keep his promise.

He landed on the Balmera in the yellow lion tired and worn, but triumphant. Rejuvenated, just to step foot on the rocky crust of the homeliest place he'd found in the universe, outside his true home. Shay ran to meet him, beaming like a thousand thousand stars, and he smiled back.

She stumbled to a halt and stood facing him, staring, her face falling not to dismay, but to solemnity at the least. He tried to smile harder, to reassure her, but she reached for him. Slow at first, cautious. As if he might refuse. Hunk stood still, gave her a nod. She could do what she liked with him. Shay touched the new scar that crossed his cheek, trailing from his eye to his chin.

"Does it pain you?" she asked, so soft, so gentle. As ever, Shay was the softest person Hunk had ever known, never mind the toughness of her skin, the solidity of her spine.

He smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. It's a...a badge of honor, Shiro says. A point of pride. But never mind that. Can you come with me? Can I show you?"

Her smile returned, slow and broad and soft, soft, soft. "Yes, please. I must needs say farewell to my family, first, but then... Yes. I want to see everything there is to see."

They went. Allura was magnanimous in victory, granting the paladins every wish they asked for. Wormhole jumps to all the places they hadn't had proper time to explore, to beaches and trade moons and party planets, to friends and families and allies. And frequent visits home.

Shay was amazed by Earth, as Hunk had known she would be. She fell in with his family as if she'd always been there, moving gracefully about the kitchen learning how to season stew with his dad, kneeling in the garage handing tools to his mom as she worked on a greasy engine. They went to museums and aquariums and amusement parks and street festivals. They leaned against a grassy hillside in a misty twilight, then sat under the moon and watched the stars. Hunk taught her all the constellations he'd ever learned, as well as some he made up on the spot.

They stayed up far too late that night, talking and laughing, snuggling under a thick quilt nicked from the living room under his little sister's nose. At some point Hunk fell into a light doze, his head resting on Shay's shoulder. He was going to wake up with a bruise on his temple, probably, but he didn't care. Shay sat straight beside him, still staring at the stars and humming home melodies quietly under her breath. Perhaps Balmerans didn't need as much sleep as humans, or perhaps she just didn't care, because Hunk didn't think she slept at all that night.

He was woken by a soft gasp, a jerk of her shoulder. It did not seem to be a sound of fright (Hunk was immensely sensitive to those now), but it still banished his sleep in an instant. He leaned up, blinking and yawning. "Shay? Something happen?"

"It comes," Shay said, her voice low with wonder. "Your star of Earth. The sun. Light is beginning to show on the horizon."

"Ah. The sunrise." Hunk sat up straighter and stared ahead. He hadn't realized they had taken up a perch facing east last night, but he was glad now that they had. Butter yellow began to creep above the sea's horizon, still dark at this time.

He remembered seeing other sunrises on other worlds. All different, all the same. Remembered the one he'd watched so long ago with Shay on the Balmera, too. That one had been beautiful, certainly, and he had never forgotten it. But there was nothing quite like Earth. Nothing with the exact spectrum of radiation from Sol, nothing with the exact composition of gases in the atmosphere.

It was a familiar sight, certainly, but he hadn't seen it in a very, very long time. Sitting here with Shay, watching the sun emerge from its watery grave, he saw the sunrise with new eyes, too. It was stunningly beautiful, and Hunk's smile was so sustained that his cheeks began to hurt.

He looked over at Shay, saw her staring, rapt, as innocent and open as a child. She didn't even glance at him in response, though she must have felt his gaze on her, for she reached over and squeezed his hand. She said nothing, but laughed, soft and awed.

Hunk looked forward again in time to watch the circle of the sun sail free of the sea. Light beamed across the waves, and all the world was waking. Boats rocked in the harbor below, cars moved in the streets, children yelled in nearby houses and woke their parents from their sleep. He looked to Shay again, and she looked back at him, bright and beautiful and beaming.

"The sun of your world is most beauteous," she said.

Hunk chuckled, low and deep. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it." He looked forward and sighed. "There's still a lot more I want to show you."

She squeezed his hand. "And I want to see it, truly and sincerely. But with this, in this moment, I am content."

"Me too."

They sat there and basked in the light.


	2. The Quiet After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Platonic VLD Week! Prompt 2: Quiet/Chaos @platonicvldweek
> 
> Words: 1054  
> Characters: Ensemble, Lance & Shiro  
> Summary: Lance can’t stand the quiet, not after all the noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also inspired by an absolutely TERRIFIC Lance-and-Shiro hug that @breezy-cheezy drew for me, [middle of the set](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/157706290810/ooh-how-about-hunk-and-lance-or-shiro-and-lance).

There was a bomb. Lance remembered that part. They were at a diplomatic function, again, some more. But this time the king or the president or whatever of this planet wasn't popular. And someone set a bomb.

Pidge spotted it, with her clever little scanners and sweepers. They were all in armor without helmets, small earpieces to be as normal-looking as possible, playing security for the Princess as she worked the center of the room. Then suddenly Pidge was screaming in their ears. _Bomb, there's a bomb, get out get out get out._

Hunk, bless him, asked where it was. He wanted to find it, disarm it. Pidge gave a location, side of the ballroom, parallel to the main entrance, but insisted that there was no time. _Get out get out get out._ Keith was running around the perimeter, herding everyone toward the doors, Hunk was picking up elderly party-goers by the armful and carrying them out. Shiro was a heroic presence as always, guiding everyone in the right direction with a firm, commanding voice that you only had to hear to obey.

Lance fell behind. It wasn't on purpose. He was listening, honest. But there was a kid, some dignitary's daughter. She got cut off from her parent, was too young to handle it, stood by the wall beginning to heave and sob, unable to move. And Lance went for her, because what else was he supposed to do? She was too close to where Pidge said the bomb was.

And the countdown, Pidge's voice in his ear, get out get out, TEN NINE EIGHT, and the crowd streaming around them, SEVEN SIX FIVE, the shouts of anger and fear. Lance reached the girl and grabbed her around the waist and _threw_ her toward the door, FOUR THREE TWO, toward Hunk standing there with his arms outstretched...

The bomb went off. He was too close. He had a fleeting moment to think, _Not again,_ and then everything went very, very quiet.

He was only out for a couple seconds, if that. He opened his eyes and couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. The room was tilting. The ceiling was cracked. Something broken loomed to his right. The wall? Chunks of it. He was half-buried in a pile of rubble, plaster dust coating his face, making him cough.

He couldn't hear anything. He hadn't noticed at first because he couldn't see anyone, just particles still falling in the air, but when he coughed, he couldn't hear it. His breathing sped up, he could feel his chest heaving, but he couldn't hear his own breath. His lungs moved faster and faster, almost choking him. He lifted a hand and felt the sticky flow pouring from his ear. He couldn't hear anything.

Then he was yelling. Didn't know what. For help, for salvation, for someone to come. He could barely feel his body, he was shaking all over, he could barely breathe, and he couldn't hear. What if he could never hear again? What if he could never hear his mother sing, or the waves on the beach, or Hunk's muttering about spices as he moved around the kitchen? What if he couldn't hear Shiro's steady encouragement, or Keith's irritating whine, or Allura's dulcet tones, or Coran's incomprehensible jokes? He wanted to hear Pidge screaming in his ear, he wanted it, he wanted it, and he _couldn't._

His vision tilted, blurred, then resolved, and Shiro's face appeared before him. He was smiling, calm and smooth, just like always. Like nothing was wrong, like everything would be okay. Lance blinked, and Shiro doubled and spun. His mouth was moving, and Lance couldn't hear him.

He said so. Thought he did, anyway. _I can't hear you, Shiro, I can't hear you, I can't hear anything..._ Breath speeding up again, throat aching, all sense stolen away.

Shiro's hands reached out and folded around his shaking head. He held Lance steady between his palms and looked into his eyes. He said something, slow and deliberate, trying to let Lance read his lips.

Lance didn't understand. His vision was too blurry, too confused, and he'd never developed that skill. The tears were making it hard, too. _I'm sorry, I can't, I don't... I don't know what you're saying..._

Shiro sighed. At least it looked like he did. But he pulled away, shook his head, smiled again. Leaned in closer, until their noses were almost touching. Calm and steady, absolutely certain. The hero Lance needed in that moment, of course, always. He held up his hand, thumb touching the tip of his index finger, and mouthed the phrase again, slow and careful.

_It's okay._

Lance stared at him, still heaving for air. Then he nodded, shaky, frantic, and closed his eyes. Shiro held his face, then let go with one hand and reached up to stroke his fingers gently through his hair. Lance opened his eyes and looked at him.

Shiro was sitting back now, still with that calm, reassuring smile. He nodded, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder. _You ready to get out of here?_

Lance nodded shakily and sucked in a breath. Yes, he was ready to get out of here. Shiro's hands shifted to his arms, his elbows, started to help him up. Lance couldn't hold himself on his feet, though, his knees shaking like jelly. Whether from the explosion or adrenaline or just pure terror, no way to tell. It didn't matter. Shiro scooped him up in his arms and carried him out of there like he weighed no more than a puppy.

Lance hooked his chin over Shiro's shoulder, squeezed his eyes shut, and hung on. He was still shaking all over, but pressed this close to Shiro, feeling his strength and solidity, he could breathe again. Shiro pressed the side of his face against Lance's head, and Lance felt the vibrations through his skull. Shiro was talking.

He couldn't understand it, but he felt it. He could imagine it. Shiro's voice was deep and calm and smooth. He knew what was going on, and he was going to take care of it. They were going to go back to the castle and get Lance into a pod, and everything would be okay. It was temporary. Nothing permanent.

Lance held tight, and he believed.


	3. A Faraway Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platonic VLD Week Prompt 3: Lions/Bonding  
> Also, it is Shiro's birthday.
> 
> Words: 1902  
> Characters: Shiro & Black Lion, Shiro & Keith  
> Summary: Immediately Post-Season Two. When Shiro disappeared, he didn't actually go anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by various post-season two speculation posts that have been floating around tumblr. I don't remember specific ones, and this is kind of a mish-mash anyway, but if you see your idea here, thank you for having it and sharing it.

When Shiro opened his eyes, he didn't know where he was.

Did he open his eyes? That was a question.

He opened something. Maybe they weren't eyes.

He wasn't alone.

At first, he almost panicked. Shiro did not take kindly to his thoughts being invaded, and despite all the things he didn't know right now, one thing he did know was that he was inside his own mind. Some version of it, anyway. And he wasn't alone in his head.

In certain contexts this was good, even invited. When doing mental training with the other paladins, when forming Voltron. Feeling all of their minds up alongside his, while not always pleasant, was at least as it should be, and there was a certain comfort to be found in being able to do his job as leader in such an intimate way. The four of them could be too loud, too bright, too anxious, too overpowering, but he was able to temper them inside the mental bond. He brought down Hunk's anxiety with calm assurance, Lance's excitement with patience, Keith's passion with careful planning, Pidge's intense curiosity with focus on the mission. Over time, they had learned to listen to him easily, to take his mental nudge with grace and fall in with him so they could all fight bound together tight as cords twisted of silver and gold and iron and copper.

But this was not one of the other four paladins. This presence that Shiro felt alongside him, above him, beneath him, surrounding him, _within_ him... It was not one of his teammates, his charges, his kids. This was someone else.

So yes, at first he almost panicked. Not least because he not only didn't know where he was, but all of his senses were thrown off. There was something almost like seeing, almost like hearing, almost like feeling, but none of them were right. It was as if he...wasn't in his own body. As if he was somewhere else, some _thing_ else, that was the most of terrifying of all.

But the presence with him, who bound him together and buoyed him and trapped him all at once... The presence was familiar. Not human, not remotely. It was like nothing else Shiro had ever known. But he knew it. He knew who it was.

The black lion. He was with the black lion.

If Shiro had had a mouth, he would have gasped. Eyes that were not eyes opened wide, peering around, and he realized that he was seeing through his lion's eyes again, like he had when Black showed him the past, Zarkon and Alfor and the planet once thriving, now destroyed.

 _Black?_ he tried to ask. Tried to shout, tried to scream. He knew Black could hear him, though there were no words in this place. _Where am I? What's going on?_

Black did not respond in words, but a series of images came. The battle with Zarkon, the final moments when Zarkon's enormous hands closed around Voltron's head and poured power and magic through the cockpit where Shiro was so thinly protected. He saw himself screaming, saw Black's sudden panic to protect him, to save him, to take him away. The moments after that were a blur, confusing and racked with pain. Shiro had the sense that they had struck an enormous, rending blow against Zarkon, but then Voltron fell apart, and his memories of the event ended.

Shiro wished he had lungs so that he could pant, let his breath speed up, his heart pound in fear. He hadn't missed physiological responses to emotional stress until he didn't have them anymore, but apparently that was just what this day was going to be like.

_Black? What happened? What happened to my team? Where am I?_

The black lion did not respond in words. But there was something like a possessive growl, a deep rumbling that shook the world, and Shiro with it. The response did not come in words, but Shiro's brain interpreted it as words. _With me._

Shiro was with the black lion. _With_ Black? What did that mean?

He looked again through the eyes that were not eyes, heard with ears that were not ears, felt with skin that was not skin. He was _with_ the black lion. They...they had merged into one. Shiro wasn't just inside the black lion at this moment. He was _inside._

For a long time, Shiro couldn't think about that anymore. It was too much for him to grasp. For a time, he let himself be. Let himself get used to the idea. It was too large, too overwhelming for his small human brain, and he just couldn't.

He felt movement, heard voices. His teammates, his friends. Grief and pain and anger. The same questions he was asking, over and over. _Why? What did this mean? How could they get him back?_

Shiro ached to answer, but he didn't have a mouth. He didn't have a voice. And the black lion was stubbornly silent.

 _Why?_ he asked, and Black answered with the same series of images. The end of the battle. Zarkon. The power racing through the cockpit, through Shiro's body. Black's need to protect him.

And also, Black's need to be protected.

The black lion did not want to belong to Zarkon anymore. As far as Shiro could gather, the lions had only the rudiments of what might be called emotion, but those that they had were extremely powerful. The need to protect, the need to fight, the need to win. Anger, playfulness, curiosity, love. Fear.

Black was afraid of Zarkon. Shiro had protected his lion before, in a fight he couldn't hope to win, and Black had taken that deeply to heart. Now, Zarkon was too near. Too frightening. Caught in a place between reality and mystery, too near to the plane that was the black lion's special domain. And Black did not want Zarkon to touch him again.

So he had co-opted Shiro as a bodyguard.

 _You have to let me go back,_ Shiro said when he understood this. Urgency poured through him, jolting every nerve that wasn't a nerve. A corner of him was aware of the stressed and grieving conversations that were being held in his absence, and he knew his team needed him. His heart ached to be with them. _I understand that you want to keep me safe, and you want me to fight for you, too. But I can do that better with a body. We'll form Voltron and fight him off, just like we did before. Stuck like this, I can't do that. I can't protect you the way I should. Please let me go. Let me go back to my team._

Black refused. The fear was too great.

Shiro was forced to watch only, a passive observer to the fight he should have been a part of. Team Voltron was in disarray without him, but the arguments were slowing down. Finding a solution. Every heart in the castle was heavy, full of denial. Everyone wanted to get him back, and no one had given up hope of doing that. But in the meantime, they had to move on.

Keith came, his steps heavy and slow. Black lowered the ramp for him without being asked, and for long moments Keith stood at the bottom, staring up into the gaping mouth. Shiro could feel his reluctance, his longing to be anywhere else. Preferably with the red lion, but anywhere but here.

He climbed the ramp, though. Keith's sense of duty was stronger than his grief. Shiro hadn't been listening to the final argument between Allura and Keith, but he knew what words she must have used. Any mention of the big picture, of the overarching need to fight and win a conflict too large for any single person to grasp, any of that would have pushed Keith over the edge. And Shiro had no doubt that Allura had been ruthless, hammering and hammering against Keith's sense of morality and justice until he had been forced to give in.

But when Keith reached the black lion's cockpit, he fell into the pilot's chair, and he wept. "I don't want to be here," he said, over and over again. Shiro was shocked, watching him. Keith didn't cry. He didn't show weakness. He didn't let himself go.

But now, it was too much. "I don't want to be your pilot," Keith told the black lion, shaking his head back and forth. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I want Shiro to come back. I know you want him, too. I can't do this. I don't want to. Please say that you don't want me, either. Spit me out, and we'll forget the whole thing."

Shiro hurt. But Black was still and silent against his mind, accepting Keith's tears and pain but doing nothing to assuage them. This was the way Black wanted it to be, and he had no comfort to offer.

 _Please,_ Shiro begged. _If you don't want to, let me._

This, Black granted. Shiro reached out through Black's quintessence, tugging and pulling in the threads of communication, of touch. Somehow, while he was here, he had figured out how to affect Black as much as Black affected him. They were joined and bonded as one, and that meant that Shiro had power and strength in this place, too. It was why Black had wanted him, after all. For his strength. So he was allowed to do something, at least a little. At least as much as a lion could.

And so he reached out, and he touched Keith's mind. He could not convey words. But he sent images. He sent emotions. He sent the moment they met, so many years ago, Keith's tangled, touseled hair and the wary look in his young eyes, his chubby cheeks and his scowling lips. Shiro's fondness and instant liking for this wary youngster, so like a scrappy young cat found clawing under a dumpster in an alley. How Shiro had longed to draw him in, tease him from his hiding place, pull him close, tuck him into his coat and take him home. And so he had done, though it was much harder and had taken much longer than the rescue of any stray cat would have.

Keith gasped and went still at the first touch of memory and emotion, then collapsed into the pilot chair. "Black..."

 _I'm here,_ Shiro conveyed with all the power he could. Hopefully Keith could catch it, even just a thread of it. _I'm here. I never left. I'll be back soon._

"Black," Keith whispered. "You...you saw Shiro's memories? You're sharing them with me?"

_I'm here, I'm here, I'm here._

"You..." Keith drew a shuddering breath. "You felt like he did. Want to do what he did. Want to drag me to you, the way he did."

Shiro ached. But if he could have, he would have smiled. _Close enough._

Keith held still for a long moment, trembling. Then he smiled, small and fleeting, and dashed away his tears with a hand across his face. "Okay. Okay. We'll give it a shot."

_I'm here. I'll always be with you._

For now, it was the best Shiro could do. They would just have to make this work, for as long as they needed to. Black rumbled around him, content with the arrangement.

It would have to do.


	4. Last Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platonic VLD Week Prompt 4: Enemies/Family  
> Words: 895  
> Characters: Thace and Ulaz  
> Summary: They only have a few minutes to talk. It's never enough time.

"What makes you think this human is so important?"

Ulaz and Thace were not looking at each other, knowing that would draw attention to their association. They sat close enough at the commissary table to speak to each other in low voices, but anyone who looked at them would only see two Galra commanders sitting at a professional distance and looking straight ahead.

"You haven't seen him in the arena, Thace," Ulaz said gravely, chewing his way through his plate of kress chunks covered with too-pale v'lor sauce. "You haven't seen the way the other fighters look at him, or the uneasy glances he draws from the guards when he does nothing but stand still."

Thace grunted. He avoided the arena whenever possible. At least his work in high-command intelligence gave him an excuse to always be too busy for such frippery. Always another report to read, another interrogation to oversee. "No, but I have heard the tales. Plenty of them. He's just another dust-raised junk celebrity, tawdry entertainment for those who feast on bloodsport. Zarkon's grinder will crush him soon enough."

"No." The word was almost spat, and Thace did not blink in surprise, because that would have been too strong of a sign. But he did hold still for a moment.

"You have not _seen_ him," Ulaz insisted. "The way he holds himself. There is strength and nobility there, qualities lost from us, the Galra, for ages."

That grated. The Galra had once been immensely strong, immensely noble. Zarkon had sucked almost all of that away in his long campaign for domination, and now those who resisted him could only cling to the scraps that were left. 

Ulaz felt the same. "The last person I saw with that look on his face was my grandfather, and he is long gone. And the Empire is poorer for it."

Thace grunted, though not without sympathy. "Your grandfather died ignobly, didn't he?"

Ulaz clenched his jaw; Thace heard it, though he did not see it. "He was blamed and scapegoated for a momentary loss on a world with almost no resources. Zarkon ordered his execution without hesitation. That was when my mother began to doubt, and that led me down the path I am currently on."

Thace gave his head a subtle shake as he sat back in his chair and patted his mouth with a napkin. "Your judgment is clouded, Ulaz. You have just admitted so yourself. You see things in this Champion that do not exist simply because you desperately want to see them again."

"No." Quieter, this time. Ulaz's fist clenched beside his plate. "I see them because they are there."

Thace sighed and leaned forward, eyeing the tiny, triangular drone that rested on the table with them, blinking slower and slower. The jamming frequency was about to run out of time. They could only steal these conversations in increments of a few doboshes at once, lest they draw suspicion. So far Thace had been able to erase any notes of their anamolous companionship from the security logs, given his position, but that could not last forever.

"In any case," he said, a touch more gently. "Your request for mission suppport has been denied. If you do this, it will be without Kolivan's approval. You're on your own."

Ulaz bowed his head and looked at the table. "I accept that."

"You're still going to do it, aren't you?" Somehow, Thace wasn't surprised.

"I have to." Strength there, as ever. Thace's mouth curled up in a smile at the edge, just to hear it. 

"It's a desperate gambit, sending him to Earth, to the lion we only half suspect is there. And you'll be burning this identity in the process and will have to start over in another role. What do you hope to accomplish?"

Ulaz was silent for a long moment. He stared straight ahead for a time, then glanced at the drone. The light flashes came farther and farther apart. Soon they would stop, and their time would be up. If he wanted to say something, it had to be now.

"I don't know," Ulaz said, honest at the end. He turned his head to look at Thace, just for a moment, before staring away. "I only know that this is what I must do. When I think of all that we have lost, all that has been stripped away... When I think of my grandfather's face, and I imagine telling him everything, I see his smile. He would do the same. He would trust this Champion. Sometimes, that is all I have. Just that knowledge."

"Sometimes, that is more than enough," Thace said softly.

The flashing of the drone stopped. Then it powered up again, back to normal, and floated off the table. Security-baffling protocol finished, back to its ordinary routine. Time for Thace to return as well.

He stood up from the bench and lifted his tray with its empty dishes. He could only pause for a moment, could only rest his hand on Ulaz's shoulder for a certain amount of time. "Farewell, warrior. I wish you success. Vrepit sa."

Ulaz's ears twitched, and he looked up at Thace for the smallest moment, the barest slice of time. His eyes were fierce and certain, and Thace knew his path was set. "Vrepit sa."

Thace left. He never saw Ulaz again.


	5. Deep in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platonic VLD Week Prompt 5: Got Your Back/Don't Let Go
> 
> Words: 1737  
> Characters: Hunk and Lance and Pidge  
> Summary: Mythical Creatures AU. When Princess Katyr's father and brother were kidnapped, Lance and Hunk volunteered to accompany her on her quest to save them. Little did they know that they were about to stumble into a legend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this screenshot](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/157886321135/kxlance-pls-appreciate-this-screenshot-of-the), which made me think of a fairy princess and her two loyal bodyguards.

"Ugh. You are the worst bodyguards ever."

"Piiiiddggeee," Lance whined, still struggling valiantly with the vines that had tangled him up, wrapping around he and Hunk like the coiling snakes of an ancient Medusa. "Don't say that! It's not my fault we're so far away from water!"

Pidge scoffed as she stomped over to them, the plants parting to make way for her. "Okay, fine, I guess it makes sense for a selkie to be useless in the middle of the woods, but at least you could have kept from making things _worse."_

"I was trying to be respectful!" Lance wrapped his hands, long and brown and strong, around the vine that circled his chest and gave it a careful tug. He knew better than to do any harm to the plants of this forest. He really hadn't expected to be attacked, though, and it was unfair of Pidge to have such high expectations of him.

"Ugh. So useless." Pidge reached the dense tangle of vines and began unwrapping Lance and Hunk from the mess they'd gotten into. Each time she touched a vine, it softened and became pliable, letting her pull it away. She guided the vines to wrap around a nearby tree, forming a green latticework around the trunk.

Lance looked over at Hunk, who stood there there waiting patiently for Pidge to save them, and gave him a mighty pout. "Like I said, water creature here. But what's your excuse, Mountain Man? Isn't there dirt, like everywhere?"

Hunk fidgeted where he stood and looked at Lance with bent eyebrows. "Mountain _troll,_ dude. I work with rocks, not dirt. All this plant life is seriously making me itchy. It's like fur growing where it shouldn't."

"You would know about that."

Hunk nodded easily. Pidge finally reached the last, strongest vine, which had twined around both Hunk and Lance in several big, looping circles. At her touch, it began to unwind, and she pulled it around her shoulders in coils, like a rope. Hunk and Lance fell free with matching sighs of relief. Pidge waddled over to the tree, bogged down by the weight of the gigantic vine, and made a shooing motion with her hand. The vine uncoiled from her body, not a little reluctantly, to curl around its new home.

Pidge sighed and dusted her hands off. "Okay, I guess you'll have to stick closer to me from now on. The forest is only going to get weirder from here."

Lance nodded and fell in behind her as she walked into the deeper forest again. He felt Hunk close at his back, the big troll hunched up with his hands in front of his chest. Lance wasn't really nervous, just cautious now that he knew what the forest was capable of. Hunk, though, was nervous with a capital N.

"How much farther?" Hunk whispered a few minutes later.

Pidge sighed. "We'll get there when we get there."

"Yeah, okay, but when will that be? I swear the trees are looking at me, man. It's making me queasy."

"Everything makes you queasy," Lance said.

"Good rocks don't make me queasy," Hunk argued.

"Almost everything makes you queasy," Lance amended.

"Okay, that's true," Hunk said. "But for real like, right now? Super queasy. This forest is uncanny."

"Of course it is," Pidge said. "That's why we're here."

They fell quiet for a good while, then. They all knew why they were here. When Princess Katyr's father and brother had been kidnapped by the witch Haggar, the ivy prophet's son had named her as the only one capable of succeeding on a quest to find a means to save them. Lance and Hunk, close friends from a very young age, had happened to be at the Seelie Court at the time and volunteered to go with her. The prophet pronounced it good, sort of. Something about destiny and others waiting for them and stars and stuff. Lance didn't remember the whole thing.

But yeah, here they were. The three of them had chosen traveling names, because it was always smart to leave your true name behind when you had to go out into the world, especially into deeply uncanny forests like this one. And after the gift of some spiffy matching armor from the royal stores and a vague direction-point from the prophet, off they went.

Lance was starting to question his and Hunk's wisdom in coming along, now. Pidge was a faerie princess, so of course she was going to do fine in a forest. He should have thought of that. They were just getting in her way, and he didn't know what else he had expected. He had just thought the idea of guarding a princess on a quest was cool. He hadn't expected anybody to _let_ him.

Hunk's stomach growled, and their tiny procession halted as Pidge stopped abruptly and looked back at him. Lance almost ran into her, then stopped too and looked back at Hunk. Hunk tapped his hands together in front of his chest, knuckles curled inward, and gave them a blushing smile. "Sorry. It's, uh, been a while since I had a snack."

To Lance's surprise, Pidge smiled at that, fleeting, but almost fond. "Okay, good news. I was saving this for when we reached a resting point, but I stopped by the kitchens before I left just for such occasions. I've read about mountain trolls, so I'm pretty sure I know what can calm you down."

Hunk's eyebrows popped up to his hairline in eager anticipation, and Pidge fumbled at her belt for a small leather pouch. She undid the tie and held it up. "It's a collection of rare ones. I'll give you a sample." She dug into the pouch with thumb and forefinger and pulled out an iridescent blue pebble the size of a finger joint, then flipped it to Hunk.

He grunted appreciatively and caught it his mouth, then crunched down, fangs glinting in the light filtering through the leaves above. "Mmm, chalcedony!"

Pidge grinned. "I thought you would like that."

Hunk nodded enthusiastically, and Pidge watched him for a moment, still with that soft smile. He finished eating the pebble, then looked hopefully at the pouch. "More?"

Pidge laughed and tucked it away. "Later. Are you feeling better?"

"Oh yeah. A hundred percent."

Lance blew out a breath in relief, too. Having his buddy so wound up had been affecting him too, as hard as he tried not to let it. He smiled at Hunk, then looked to Pidge.

"Thank you. Seriously. That was cool of you."

Pidge gave him a small smile. "No problem. I really do appreciate you guys coming with me, you know. I know I've been a little grumpy, because this whole situation is seriously stressful, but I'm glad I'm not alone out here. I'm sure the prophet's son had a reason for sending you."

That was close as Pidge was going to get to _Sorry I called you useless,_ Lance could tell that. He nodded and gave her an easy smile. "No worries, princess. We're with you all the way, for real."

Hunk nodded and gave her a thumb's up. "Got your back. 'Swhy we're here."

Pidge smiled, and Lance saw her shoulders relax. "I think we really are getting close. Just a little further. We'll make it." 

They nodded, and she turned and continued to walk the way they'd been going. As usual, the underbrush and overhanging branches slid out of the way to allow her passage. Lance and Hunk were taller, but as long as they stuck close behind her and ducked down a little, they didn't get smacked too often. Once every ten steps instead of once every three, maybe.

Then, the plant life ahead began to thin, and Lance saw that they were reaching a clearing. The sunlight shone down directly overhead, illuminating an overgrown meadow rife with knee-high grass and wildflowers of every color and description. And as they stepped into the clearing, they stopped and stared in awe. There in the middle, bathed in the soft yellow light, was the statue of a massive stone lioness, curled peaceful and still like a cat sleeping in the sun.

"It's the Guardian of the Forest," Pidge breathed in awe. "Do you think..." She paused and looked at Lance and Hunk, eyes shining with excitement. "Do you think, maybe, we could waken her?"

Lance hesitated. There were old legends about the Guardians of the Elements, of course. No one had found any of them for hundreds of years, but the stories said that in time of need, the Guardians would call their champions and allow themselves to be woken from sleep so they could right some imbalance in the world. Was now such a time?

He wasn't sure he believed it. But it was said that no one could find the Guardians unless they wanted to be found. This must be why the prophet had pointed them here, guided by some cosmic whisper. Still, Lance trembled inwardly at the scope of what they had just stumbled upon.

He had thought they were just going to find some sort of weapon or magic item to help the princess fight her enemies. He hadn't expected to fall into a legend. He was just a selkie from the southern coast... What was he even doing here?

Hunk was already all in, stepping forward eagerly and nodding like his neck was broken. "Yeah, yeah, that must be it! C'mon, Pidge, wake the Guardian! This must be why we're here."

Pidge held still for a moment, then swallowed and looked at the Guardian of the Forest, her eyes shining with eager curiosity. She started to reach out a hand, but it trembled, and she pulled back. She looked to Hunk and gulped, then held out her other hand. "Please?"

Hunk smiled, broad and soft, and folded her tiny, pale hand into his big, dark one. He held her secure, then reached his other hand for Lance. Lance gave it without a second's thought. They were all in this together, no matter what would come.

"Don't let go," Pidge said softly. She stepped forward, pulling her "bodyguards," her new friends, behind her in a line like flowers on a string. She reached out her free hand, fingers trembling.

She touched down on the nose of the Guardian of the Forest. And everything changed.


	6. Before the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platonic VLD Week Prompt 6: Injury/Healing
> 
> Words: 1069  
> Characters: Alfor and Coran, Allura and Coran  
> Summary: Pre-Series. Sometimes Coran forgets that he is not the one who suffers the most when he is injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by another fantastic hug that @breezy-cheezy drew for me, [bottom of the set.](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/157706290810/ooh-how-about-hunk-and-lance-or-shiro-and-lance)

"Coran, Coran, you have to stay awake."

Coran coughed, felt blood sputter up from his lips and shower down on his face in a fine mist. His eyes were blurred, but he saw the face hovering over him, eyebrows bent and mouth pursed. That wasn't right. He was supposed to reduce Alfor's worries, not add to them. A pang in his heart, and his hand clenched into a fist at his side. "My king..."

"Don't talk." A hand closed over his, big and warm. Alfor's warmth pressed his side as he knelt there, close enough to touch, to hold, to demand with his face and touch that Coran stay where he was. Coran was cold all over and felt like he was getting colder with every tick. But where Alfor touched him, he was warm. "A cryo-replenisher is being prepared," Alfor said. "But it's best if you're awake. Just hold on for a little while longer."

"As you command..."

"Don't talk." More stern, this time. Alfor's hand tightened over his. "Just look into my face. Listen to my voice."

Coran blinked in assent, since he wasn't allowed to talk right now.

Alfor smiled, tight and strained. "Good. I see you are obeying me, for once."

Coran's forehead wrinkled. That wasn't quite fair.

"Forgive me." Softer. "That was unkind. You have always been the most loyal, the most reliable..." He blinked, suddenly, swiftly, and looked away. Then back to Coran's face, his expression warm and open. "I mean that you must stop ignoring certain of my commands, Coran. Like the one where I told you stay behind me because I was wearing armor and you weren't. You remember that one?"

Coran frowned. His mind was a little fuzzy. 

Alfor chuckled. "Of course you don't remember. It was only a few doboshes ago, but I do believe that such commands exit your head the moment they are uttered. No matter. In the future, if I tell you to stay behind me, you will do it. Am I understood?"

Coran nodded. He always nodded when Alfor used that tone of voice. Wasn't always listening, precisely, but he always nodded.

Alfor seemed to know it. He sighed and closed his eyes, then opened them and looked at Coran again. He smiled, warm and wide and reassuring. "The pod is ready now, my friend. They're going to take you out of my hands. The time will pass swiftly for you, I hope. I'll see you when you wake."

Coran nodded and let his eyes fall shut. He was not overly fond the cryo-replenisher, but if Alfor would be waiting for him, he would accept it without complaint. Other hands came then, holding his arms, his shoulders. But Alfor's hand stayed over his, all way into the cool, dreamless sleep.

When Coran woke, Alfor was there, as promised. He smiled, wide and relieved, as Coran stumbled out of the pod and was caught by a technician on either side. Alfor was still wearing his armor, standing straight and tall in the middle of the room with his royal bearing intact. "Help him sit," he commanded, and the technicians guided Coran over to a bench where he sank down with a release of air, like an over-blown heffalump deflating. 

He sat there, limp with a case of the old cryo-knees, and gave Alfor a weak smile. He tried to tell him, with his face and his posture, that everything was all right now. It was his job to reduce Alfor's worries, not add to them.

Alfor could not go to him, not now, surrounded by people who needed to see him strong and royal. Later, Coran would expect a hug. If Alfor didn't offer one, Coran would take it on his own. In the meantime, he could smile at least.

Then a small face popped out from behind Alfor's legs, beaming and bright. "Unka C'ran!"

Coran felt his smile change. It was larger now, different in character though no less warm and happy. "Little Princess! I'm so happy to see you!"

Alfor placed his hand on the top of Allura's head. "I tried to tell her that you would need to rest right after coming out of cryo-sleep, but she wanted to see you as soon as possible." And Alfor could not refuse her, not for such a harmless request. "I hope you don't mind."

Coran beamed at him briefly, then looked back to Allura. "Of course not! I'm always ready to see my beautiful princess."

He sat forward on the bench, suppressing a wince when the movement pulled at new scars on his stomach and chest, and held out his arms. Allura giggled, then raced to meet him, hands outstretched. She ran into him without a moment’s thought, and Coran lifted her into his lap. She curled up against his chest and tucked her head under his chin, and he ducked his face to nestle against her hair. 

"Missed you, Unka C'ran."

"I missed you too, Princess." He slid his hand gently over her soft, messy head. The nursemaids had been neglecting her grooming again. Well, Allura was a stubborn child, and she deeply disliked anyone touching her hair. The only ones she would endure it from without complaint were her father and Coran, and they had both been somewhat indisposed lately.

Allura's hand wrapped around his chest and held on tight. For a moment, he felt her tremble. "Unka, you're all 'kay now, right?"

Her voice was so soft, so small. Coran held still for a moment, heart aching, then started petting her again. He had forgotten. It was not only himself, and it was not only Alfor, who suffered when he was careless.

“Of course I am,” he said, gentle as could be. “I’ll always be all right. That’s a lion-bound promise. Do you believe me?”

Allura nodded, then turned her head and pressed her face into his chest for a moment. Coran looked over her fluffy white head of hair to meet Alfor’s eyes, and he tried to apologize without speaking. Alfor gave him an understanding nod.

Coran had made an enormous mistake, jumping in front of Alfor like that. Only now did he realize it. In that moment, Coran and Alfor and Allura were all bound together in a promise. A promise that Coran would never make such a mistake again.

Alfor would hold him to that promise. And Coran was glad.


	7. A Bow in the Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Platonic VLD Week Prompt 7: Free/AU
> 
> Words: 1858  
> Characters: Shiro & Keith, Lance & Hunk  
> Summary: Robin Hood AU. After months of recovery, Shiro is ready to try the bow again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this came from, but here it is.

"How do you fare?"

Shiro looked up from where he sat on a fallen log, thoughtfully flexing his right arm up and down, feeling the give and pull of every muscle, every sinew. "It feels well. Back to full strength, I think."

"Are you sure? Your injuries were extensive." Keith sat down next to him, staring unabashedly. Shiro resisted the urge to roll down his tunic sleeve and hide the scars away. Keith had seen them already; he'd already seen everything. So had the rest of Shiro's band. It didn't make it any easier, sometimes. When he spent too much time thinking about it, when everything felt fresh again. 

But right now, Shiro was sure. "Come along, Keith O'Scarlet." He stood up and clapped his young kinsman heartily on the shoulder. "I want to try the bow again."

Keith grumbled, but he hopped lightly to his feet and followed Shiro back to the main camp.

It was the middle of the day, deep in the middle of Sherwood, and most of the camp was drowsing. Little Hunk sat by the cookfire and stirred a simmering pot, and Lance-a-Dale rested against a trunk nearby, idly strumming his lute and humming tunefully to himself while Hunk bobbed his head in appreciation. When they saw Shiro striding determinedly across the camp toward the area that had been set up as a target range, both stopped what they were doing and jumped to their feet to follow.

"Is it happening?" Lance asked, fingers tripping over the lute-strings with less than his usual skill. "You're going to try the bow again?"

Shiro nodded, his eyes focused ahead, though Keith frowned. It was Keith's nature to be protective, so Shiro did not blame him. But it was Shiro's nature to be decisive and firm, and he had made up his mind. He was going to take back what had been stolen from him by the usurpers who currently held this country in thrall.

Some of Shiro's scars had been earned in the Crusades, fighting in Alfor the Lionhearted's army, and Shiro was not ashamed of those. But when he had returned home, only to be immediately taken captive as a trespasser on his own land by Sheriff Sendak... Well. Things had changed.

It burned Shiro's heart to think of the corrupt monsters who had seized his ancient homestead in his absence. Shiro's father had died while he was away at war, which was grief enough, but then the local Sheriff had declared that Shiro was dead, too, and with no legal heir, his property was forfeited to the state. Shiro's mother and sister had been evicted, his loyal servants driven off. Shiro’s remaining family was safe in London now, but he hadn't been there to help them find safety. Shiro's hand clenched into a fist as he imagined their panic and grief when they were forced onto the streets like homeless beggars.

When Shiro returned from the long war, knowing nothing of this, and tried to access his home, he was arrested as an imposter and tortured to make him confess to his crime. They had done the worst to his right arm, knowing his fame as an archer. Sendak had thought they could make him break by threatening the most valuable thing left to him. The wicked sheriff had vowed more than once to cut it off, to mangle it and crush it so Shiro would never recover. Somehow, Shiro had avoided that fate. Divine intervention, he could only guess.

Friar Coran had helped him escape more than three months ago. Since then, Shiro had swiftly gained a reputation in Sherwood under a new name, Robin Hood, as he attacked government officials and complacent envoys swathed in a green cloak with a hood drawn tight to hide his face. Soon, other disaffected men wandered in to join him, and now Shiro had quite a merry band.

Till now, he had been forced to fight only with sword, staff, and fist. His wounded right arm was not strong enough to draw a bow, and the recovery process had been long and tedious. The lack of archery from "Robin Hood" had been useful to obscure his identity, since no one connected the new outlaw in Sherwood with the famed archer, Takashi Shirogane. If Shiro needed something attacked from a distance, his men, most notably Lance-a-Dale, handled it with ease.

This wasn't about being effective in combat. Shiro, as Robin Hood, could fight very well in melee and close combat, and he could strike fear into any enemy's heart with the power of his voice and the strength of his convictions. He didn't need to be able to shoot again in order to continue this fight.

But he wanted to. He wanted to draw his old bow, as tall as he was and just as strong. He wanted to hit the target with all of his skill, to split an arrow in twain from fletching to point. This was something he needed to take back from the vicious cur who had dared to try to steal it from him.

At the range, he snatched up his personal longbow, so long ago set aside with no one powerful enough to string it. He took up a waxed string and slipped the loop into the bottom nock, then pressed down with his weight and bent the bow far enough to string the top nock as well. He stood with the bow in his left hand, feeling it sing with tension. It felt right there, the solid wood steady and firm against his palm.

Lance and Little Hunk cheered and clapped from the sidelines, and Keith brought him a handful of arrows, freshly fletched and balanced by Lance's careful hand. Shiro knew the work at the glance, familiar as he was with his men and their abilities. He took the arrows from Keith with a grateful nod, then stuck them point down in the ground at his feet in a clump of grass. He lifted one arrow and nocked it on the string, then stood facing the target, fingers braced on the bowstring, holding the arrow in place.

This was it. The test. Shiro drew a breath, then let it out. He hadn't been able to do any shooting for well over half a year. The last time had been at a resting point somewhere along the road back home, and it had only been for fun. He hadn't done any serious practice for longer than that. The last time he had shot a good hundred arrows, he had been surrounded with dust and sand.

But no more. A new time was beginning now. Shiro felt Keith's tense stance on his right, his fierce concentration, his desire for Shiro to succeed and his determination to be there even if he failed. He felt Lance and Hunk's eager excitement on his left, their easy confidence in their leader, no fear, no doubt, simple certainty that he could do anything he put his mind to. Their simple trust in him made him tremble, at times, with the weight of such responsibility. Now, though, it made him strong.

Slowly, carefully, Shiro drew back the string to his ear. His hands held steady and strong, no wobble in his grip on in the pull. He could feel the remaining weakness down deep in his muscles and knew he didn’t have many of these in him, not yet. He needed to do much more exercise with his right arm before he would be able to shoot his old numbers of arrows.

But at least he could pull the bow, even once. A few weeks ago, he hadn’t even been able to do that. And the arrow was steady on the string, not even a waver. Shiro focused forward again, his heart beating fast. He looked at the target, seeming so far away, remembered when he had been able to send arrows to whatever distance he chose like birds on the wing.

If he let go of the string, the arrow would fly. Where? Would it go where he told it to? Shiro wasn’t sure, though he kept only certainty on his face. Again, he took a moment to listen to Lance and Little Hunk, to feel his new companions’ trust and confidence in him. He felt Keith’s tension at his side, his unwavering support. 

For as long as he held the string at his ear, Shiro could luxuriate in not knowing. He could believe that if he let the arrow go, it would find the target as of old. If he chose, he could relax the pull, set the arrow down, and tell his men that he would try again later. But if he let the arrow go, he would know for sure just how badly his skilled had atrophied. If he missed the target, by inches or by yards, Lance and Hunk and Keith would all see it. They would know how far he’d fallen. Would it affect their faith in him, their ability to obey his orders without hesitation?

No matter. Shiro could no longer stand the uncertainty. He needed to know, one way or the other.

He held still, watched the breeze, waited for his moment. Then he released his breath and at the same time, the bowstring. The arrow flew from his fingers, speeding away like the best messenger in all of God’s green earth. And it struck the target.

Not quite a bullseye. Not quite his old level of skill. Shiro still had work to do to regain that, he could see that well. But he’d hit the target. All was not lost.

His shoulders fell down, and he stepped back, relief pouring over him and slumping his shoulders, loosening his grip on the bow at last. Beside him, Lance-a-Dale and Little Hunk were cheering like madmen. They had linked elbows and were skipping around each other in a circle, yelling at the top of their lungs in repeated huzzahs. Much more of this and they would rouse the camp, and Shiro didn’t know whether to tell them to be quiet or let them do it.

He looked to the other side and saw Keith watching him still, a small smile on his face.

“You did it.” Quiet, proud. Shiro and Keith had only reconnected recently, after a childhood and adolescence of misunderstandings and missed opportunities, but already Keith O’Scarlet, he of the quick temper and the quicker blade, seemed to know Shiro almost better than he knew himself.

Shiro smiled back. “I did.”

His skills were returning to him, slow but steady. More men were gathering to their side by the day. After escaping Sendak’s prison, Shiro had been almost frantic with despair, unable to see an end to the insurmountable battles that faced him. He had fought anyway, because it was not in him to surrender. But only now, at last, did he see a chance of fighting through to the end of this.

He tightened his grip on his bow, lifted it, looked to the target. He took another arrow from the ground. And he shot again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Allura is Maid Marian, and Pidge is her loyal lady-in-waiting who is exceedingly good at sneaking away and carrying messages to the merry men. Eventually the two ladies will join them in the woods, and after that they'll be unstoppable. Prince Zarkon, the phony king of England, is going down.


	8. Can't Save Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 802  
> Characters: Hunk & Lance  
> Summary: Anonymous asked: this isn't a request or anything, more like an idea but imagine lance blaming himself over florona dying (i think that was her name? well,,, the mermaid in season 2) because he thinks if he might just have been able to save her. everything ends with hunk comforting him saying that he did his best and he managed to save a planet and that he shouldn't blame himself ;^)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of my current Voltron ficlets from tumblr, but I'm sure there will be more in the future. Watch this space!

They had some time after the energy beacon was activated before the Castle of Lions showed up. At first Hunk and Lance spent the time talking and laughing with the newly liberated Queen Luxia and her people, enjoying their hospitality without reservations. After a while, though, Hunk noticed Lance had drifted away from the others and was staring into the giant glowing pit that used to hold a sea serpent that had held a whole civilization in its sway.

Hunk gently extricated himself from the group he was talking to and swam over to his side. “Lance? Buddy?” Lance startled a bit and turned to face him, and Hunk winced, remembering that not long ago he had done his best to beat Lance to a pulp.

Lance didn’t seem to hold a grudge though. As soon he realized who it was, he gave Hunk a half-hearted smile and went back to staring at the pit. “Hey, man.”

“What are you thinking about?” Hunk asked.

Lance shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I haven’t seen Flurona around. Everyone else is here. I thought she should be too. But I asked someone, and they said she went for a walk in the Baku garden. Pretty obvious euphemism, now.”

Hunk went still, his heart seizing up in his chest. With everything that had happened, he had somehow forgotten. The queen had told Flurona that she had to go to the garden because she had lost track of Lance. Flurona had accepted it so mildly, so easily, that Hunk had figured it wasn’t that much of a punishment. But now, with what they knew…

The Baku garden had eaten hundreds of these people. Hundreds. Had Flurona been the last one?

Hunk was never going to tell Lance why she’d been sent there, that was for sure. Hopefully no one else would mention it either. The poor guy would just blame himself, even though he’d had absolutely no control over it. No one had meant for this to happen. Not even the queen.

“Yeah,” Hunk said softly. “I’m sorry, dude. I know you liked her.”

Lance shook his head. “I like everyone here. But she was the first one, you know? The first real life mermaid I ever saw. She led us here. And she was so nice. I just…”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah, it sucks.”

Lance pulled in a breath and looked up at the frozen surface, far above their heads. “If I’d been a little quicker… I wasted a lot of time messing around, Hunk.”

“Hey, no.” Hunk reached out and grabbed Lance’s shoulders, turning him to face him. “You can’t think like that, dude. You can’t let yourself go down that road. You did everything you could. Everything. You saved _everyone,_ and they all know it, too. If…” Hunk bit his lip, then went on. “If Flurona were here, she would say so, too. You know that, right?”

“Saved everyone else, you mean,” Lance said, not a little bitterly. “Everyone but Flurona.”

A hundred words jammed up in Hunk’s throat. They couldn’t save everyone. It sucked, but they had to deal. Lance had saved a whole planet, here. He had discovered new abilities, and he had been strong and smart and insanely heroic and even deepened his bond with Blue. Even if he’d been faster, it wouldn’t have been in time to save Flurona. From the timeline they had pieced together by talking about what had happened while they were separated, Hunk figured she’d already gone to the garden before the rebels had even told Lance what was going on, much less formulated a plan and carried it out.

All those words didn’t mean anything to Lance, not right now. He couldn’t focus on the positives, not while he was thinking of one huge, glaring negative. And really, he deserved to wallow a little. Flurona deserved to be grieved over, even by someone who had only known her for less than a day.

So Hunk just sighed and looked down. “I get it. When we get back to the castle, remind me to give you a big hug, okay? The armor and the head bubbles are making it kind of awkward right now.”

At this Lance did manage a smile, small and hesitant.

“And the jellyfish on your head,” Hunk said, dead serious. “When are you gonna take that thing off?”

And for a wonder, Lance laughed. It was short and immediately cut off, but it was a laugh. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared to. I think it might hurt. Guess maybe I should go ask Blumfump. He’s not a scientist, but he might have a theory on the best way to do it.”

“Okay. Let’s go do that.” Hunk got hold of Lance’s arm and tugged him easily through the water, back to the group.


	9. 2000 Followers Special, Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my 2000 follower special on tumblr, I took prompts for microfics. Prompts are now closed. This is Day One, and there are twenty small fics. I have lots more prompts to write, too.

_bosstoaster asked:  
Oooh nice! Okay, Lance + Shiro: Being secret dorks together_

“I can’t believe you’ve never read these books,” Lance said, downloading everything from his phone onto the Altean equivalent of a tablet Coran had set up for Shiro.

Shiro shrugged. “I was always more into Star Trek.”

Lance shuddered. “God, that’s even worse. Well, the original Star Wars EU is good, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. After you read the X-Wing series, we need to talk about strategies for lion battles.”

Shiro grinned.

X

_haikyuufangirlforever asked:  
Hey, can you do a Pidge and Shiro bonding moment microfic? Thank you!_

“Do you even need these?” Shiro asked, pointing at the glasses on Pidge’s face.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “What do you think?”

“I think you do it for the aesthetic, you little gremlin.” His voice was immensely fond, though. He reached out and plucked them off her nose, then put them on himself. “Hey, do I look good with glasses?” They were far too small for his face and made him look like a weird bug.

Pidge laughed until she choked.

X

_desmondmlles asked:  
"and he stood there, wondering how on earth this happened"_

Coran hadn’t meant to start another food fight. He just choked accidentally on Hunk’s new dish (it tasted weird, okay, Altea didn’t have flavors like that) and spit it out before he could stop himself. It landed on Hunk’s face. The paladins blinked at him for a moment, mouths opened in dismay, and Coran feared that he had deeply insulted their culture somehow.

But Lance stood up in excitement, waving his spoonful of what Hunk had called “tapioca pudding,” and yelled, “FOOD FIGHT!” at the top of his lungs.

And now Coran just stood there in the middle of the battlefield, wondering how on Earth, or Altea, this had happened.

X

_desmondmlles asked:  
"oh my god why am I blindfolded?" (I hope I'm doing these right ahhh)_

“Oh my god, why am I blindfolded?” Lance asked, panic in his voice.

“Training, my boy,” Coran said cheerfully. “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”

“That reference doesn’t apply in this situation,” Lance complained.

“Pedal to the metal! Can’t stop won’t stop! Catch these hands!”

“Oh god, just stop.”

Coran did not stop. He did loosen Lance up enough to be able to complete the exercise, though.

X

_bajillionkittens asked:  
"3" Sentence prompt: Boom Crash verse Blue and Lance, she's still there on good days too._

“Blue, I wish the water was deeper so you could come swimming too. I mean, a pond is great, I’ll take a pond, but remember that ocean planet? That ocean planet was awesome.”

Blue’s sense in his mind was happy and affectionate. _It doesn’t matter. Blue can experience the swim through my Lance’s eyes. Blue is having fun._

“Okay, cool. But next time Allura offers a vacation day, I’m asking for an ocean.”

X

_bajillionkittens asked:  
"3" Sentence prompt: Boom Crash verse Lance talking another of the pals through a panic attack--returning the favor, basically._

“We were…we were…so close…” Pidge’s chest hitched, her throat tight, her mind buzzing. They had missed finding her father by hours. Hours. The Galra had transported him off the ship right before they got there, as if they knew that Voltron was coming.

“I know, Pidge, I’m so sorry.” Lance’s hands rubbed up and down her upper arms, slow and steady. “Breathe with me, okay? In. Out. That’s good. You can do it. We’ll find him, hermanita. I promise. Breathe again. There you go.”

Pidge breathed. It hurt, but she breathed.

X

_anonymous asked:  
Hi Maychorian! Prompt: while Lance is being held hostage, he's trying to joke about it to make his team feel better, but all of them are worried and angry on his behalf/ are not finding it at all funny_

  
They asked for proof of life. They gave them a video feed.

Lance’s face was bloody and bruised, his hands cuffed in front of him, shaking. One of his captors stood beside him, gripping his shoulder with too-sharp claws. When Lance blinked his vision clear enough to see them, he smiled. It wasn’t as reassuring as he wanted to be, not with all the blood on his teeth. Hunk started hyperventilating immediately, and Pidge held onto his arm with both hands, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, guys!” Lance was still faking cheerfulness, even now. “Don’t look so worried, hey? You ought to see the other guy.”

“Lance,” Shiro said quietly, trying to hold his eyes through the staticky feed. “We’ll get you out of there. Hold on.”

“No hurry,” Lance said lightly. “It’s a downright tea party over here. I taught the guards how to play canasta, and I think Big and Bulky here is really starting to get good.” The guy holding his shoulder tightened his grip, and Lance visibly suppressed a wince.

Keith felt his hands close into fists, nails digging into his palms. He pressed his mouth shut, determined not to say anything. There was no use in yelling at Lance for being an idiot, for pretending he was fine when he wasn’t. Lance was just trying to make them feel better about this awful situation.

Too bad he was failing. Hard.

“We’re coming for you,” Allura said, an attempt at lightness making her voice come out strained and high-pitched. “Play nice until we arrive, won’t you?”

Lance nodded, and his smile widened. “You got it, Princess. I’ll be a good guest for my lovely hosts.”

The feed cut out.

X

**[emerald-ashes](https://emerald-ashes.tumblr.com/) asked: So for the microfic thing...how about Shiro and Lance and comforting each other post battle or something? I just love their dynamic :)**

  
“Are you okay?”

A nod, then a head shake. Lance moved closer, then sat down. “I should be asking you that,” Shiro said.

Lance drew in a slow breath, then blew it out, shaky. “We won.”

Shiro nodded, staring off at nothing. They won. But Keith almost died. He was in the healing pod now. Coran said he was going to be fine. They had to remember that.

Lance leaned into his side, and Shiro wrapped his arm around him almost on instinct.

“We won. Everything is okay.”

Either of them could have said it. Neither really believed it.

X

**[xxxbladeangelxxx](https://xxxbladeangelxxx.tumblr.com/) asked: Can I please ask for lance and team voltron with lance being their guardian angel with a sniper rifle? Congratulations on reaching 2000!**

 

Keith didn’t see the second Galra until it was too late. He had rounded the corner of a city they were trying to liberate and ran into a group of half a dozen sentries, then leaped into them without hesitation, swinging his sword. He was still trying to pull his sword free of the last mess of broken robotics when a shot rang out, echoing through the narrow streets.

Keith whirled around in time to see the Galra commander fall to the ground, the back of his skull missing. He had been in the middle of raising his weapon to take Keith out, and Keith hadn’t even noticed, too hyper-focused on his current opponents. Keith blew out a shaky breath and looked up to the tower in the middle of the city, where he knew Lance was watching, his bayard transformed into a rifle for a long-distance shooting.

“Thanks, man,” he said quietly into the comms.

“No prob, partner.” Lance’s voice still held his customary lightness, but with a serious edge to it. “I’ve got your back. Next group is two blocks ahead.”

Keith nodded, then ran.

X

**Anonymous asked: For the microfic, feverish or very sick Keith and Shiro taking care of him? Always love your hurt/comfort writing, and congrats on the 2,000 followers <3**

 

“Shiro…” Keith pitched forward and almost toppled over. Shiro cursed and caught him, hauling Keith up to rest against his chest. He had been in the middle of helping Keith take off his regular clothes to prepare for the healing pod when he started to freak out and fell into him.

“Shiro…” Keith panted into Shiro’s neck, hot moist breaths like swamp, carrying the fetid scent of deep illness. His fingers clutched at Shiro’s shirt, and he twisted his head as if he was trying to get even closer to Shiro.

“I’m here, buddy.” Shiro wrapped both arms around him and held on. There was little more he could do until Coran said the pod was ready. “You’re going to be okay. I wish we caught this sooner, though. Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling good?” Finding Keith collapsed in the hall after he woke up from his usual nightmares and decided to take a walk had been one of the more terrifying moments of Shiro’s life.

Keith didn’t seem to hear him. “Shiro, are you here? Shiro?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“You’re aren’t going anywhere, right? You aren’t…you aren’t gonna disappear?”

Shiro’s heart ached. He held Keith a little tighter and ducked his head down to hide against his hair. “No,” he whispered, almost choking on the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, buddy. I promise. No more of that.”

Keith pressed his face under Shiro’s chin. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, buddy. I swear I’m not.”

“You can’t…you can’t promise…”

Shiro couldn’t breathe for moment. Then, “No, that’s true. I can’t promise. I can’t say anything about the future, you’re right. But I’m here right now, Keith. I’m here right now, and the only way I would leave is if someone dragged me away, kicking and screaming the whole way. I swear.”

For the moment, that would have to do.

X

**Anonymous asked: Hunk & Keith: Colorblind in a "Cut the red wire" scenario (thinking of those head canons of Hunk as some form of colorblind and Keith too from his Galra heritage)**

 

“Okay,” Pidge said, her voice fuzzy over the comms. “I’ve been studying the schematics pretty hard, and I think I know what you need to do. Remove the red crystal and the green crystal and switch them, then take out all of the blue crystals and move them to the end of the row.”

Keith and Hunk crouched by the panel, staring at the bewildering array of crystals inside. Hunk tapped his comms. “Umm… Any other way you can phrase that? Like, by size or shape, maybe?”

Pidge cursed, and there was a sound like she had punched something. “Quiznak! Sorry, I forgot you both had limited visual spectrum stuff going on. Sorry! The schematics don’t show shape or size, just color.”

Hunk looked at Keith. Keith looked at Hunk. Hunk rose gracefully to his feet and moved to the other side of the storeroom, where there were a number of components he knew would be a lot easier to work with. “No worries, Pidge. I’m just gonna make a bomb.”

Keith smiled and went to guard the door.

X

**[eastofthemoon](http://eastofthemoon.tumblr.com/) asked: Keith and the spacemice, prompt: bath.**

  
“I can’t believe Shiro and Allura foisted this off on me,” Keith grumbled as he carefully filled a basin with warm water from the tap and tested it on the inside of his wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot. The mice followed his every move, watching with great interest as he sat down on the floor and set out the Altean equivalent of baby shampoo, a couple of small brushes, and four tiny towels.

The mice crowded around, climbing on top of each other, waving their arms and squeaking in a bid to be the first. Keith squinted at them. “And I can’t believe you guys like this. The hamsters at my old foster home never enjoyed their baths.”

Platt took a running leap and cannon-balled into the basin, splashing Keith in the face. Keith sighed and picked up a brush. “Okay, fine. You’re first, you little monster.”

Platt chirruped in satisfaction and floated on his back in the warm water.

X

**[butteredonions](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com/) asked: Congratulations on your follower milestone!! Can you do Shiro + your choice of other character? "nobody will know if we don't tell them" :)**

 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Hunk said as he finished twisting the last wire together and shut the panel beside the door. “I can’t believe you had this idea.”

Shiro grinned. “Thank you for going along with it.”

“This such a silly prank, and there’s so much coding involved, people will probably think it was Pidge. She’s going to be pissed she didn’t think of it.”

Shiro grinned harder. “That’s the best part. Nobody will know it was us if we don’t tell them.”

The next time the group had training together, when Lance and Keith walked through the door, the overhead speaker started playing “Bad Blood” by Taylor Swift. And yes, everyone thought it was Pidge.

She was upset it wasn’t her, but loudly declared that she was totally onboard. It was about time those two got dragged for their ridiculous rivalry. It had been getting so annoying lately.

Shiro and Hunk gave each other a discreet high five.

 X

**[rangergirl3](https://rangergirl3.tumblr.com/) asked: Keith and Pidge, where she discovers he's a huge nerd about - some TV show or something. :-)**

“Okay, but what do you think about New Who?” Pidge asked, leaning over Keith’s shoulder as he sat on a bench, sharpening his knife.

Keith stiffened his back a little to accommodate her weight, but made no attempt to shrug her off. He’s was getting more used to having others close to him, even leaning on him like this. “You mean New Who, from the early Aughts, or the New New Who, from the last couple of decades?”

“Both!” Pidge said at once. “Also, did you ever check out Classic Who? I heard they found some of the lost episodes recently.”

Keith sighed with nostalgia. “You know, I actually kinda prefer the really early stuff? Even the black and white. The effects were cheesy, for real, but…kinda charming.”

“I know, right?” Pidge’s voice went so high-pitched it nearly hit the stratosphere. Or would have, if they were on a planet.

On the other side of the room, Shiro, Lance, and Hunk watched them with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to say a word.

X

**Anonymous asked: Hey Maychorian! For a prompt, could you do something funny with Shiro and Pidge? They both deserve to have a little bit of fun in their lives!**

 

They had finally landed on a planet with snow, and Pidge was determined to have her revenge for the space spore fight. She had been too distracted by the obviously coded blinking to join in fully, and now was the time to remedy that. When the usual diplomatic meet-and-greet was done and the paladins were left to their own devices, she picked a moment when Keith and Lance were arguing and Hunk was laughing at them, then stalked over to Shiro, grabbed his arm, and dragged him behind a tree.

Shiro looked nonplussed, but allowed himself to be pulled. Once they were out of sight, Pidge crouched down and gestured for him to join her, and he smiled a bit blankly and did so. “What’s going on, Pidge? Did something bother you about the talks today?”

Pidge shook her head. “Nothing like that.” She was already making snowballs as they talked. “I want your arm.”

The blank look on Shiro’s face deepened, and she shook her head vigorously. “Not like that! I want you to team up with me for a snowball fight. I bet you can throw really hard and really far. We’ll make up a stock of ammunition, then ambush those three idiots from far away. They’ll never know what hit them.”

Shiro held still for a moment, then grinned, sudden and blinding. “Sounds perfect.”

He sat down in the snow right next to her and started making snowballs. It might have been the Galra arm giving him precision, or maybe Shiro had done this before, but all of his snowballs were perfectly round, perfectly sized, and very very solid. Pidge watched his progress with glee, as her own slightly lumpy, misshapen balls joined the pile.

This was going to be great.

 

X

**[isabeau25](http://isabeau25.tumblr.com/) asked: Prompt: Lance falls asleep on people.**

Follow-up on [this post](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159808542006/yo-bring-on-the-shiro-and-lance-head-canons), which is based on [this art](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159800734398/eenocs-shance-doodles-from-twt).

__

“Shiro, this is the _fifth time.”_ Keith’s voice was exasperated. “You can’t keep indulging him like this. Tell him to sleep in his own bed.”

“Shh.” Shiro’s voice was, indeed, exceedingly indulgent. Lance was only barely awake, but it was a nice sound, so he snuggled his head a little harder into Shiro’s chest. Shiro’s arm wrapped close and comfortable around his back, and his other hand pulled a blanket up to cover him. “Let him rest. He’s had a long day.”

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

Shiro’s voice got just a touch harder, though still soft. “Long. Day.”

“I think you like it,” Hunk said, not quite accusingly. “You like it when Lance gets all sleep-stupid and just curls up in your lap. I mean, I get it, I like it too.” If anything, he sounded slightly hurt that Shiro was Lance’s favorite now instead of him.

“Gotta admit it’s kinda cute,” Pidge said thoughtfully. “Kinda like when a pet curls up on you, like a cat or a dog. There’s a kind of really deep trust there that’s hard to refuse. Obviously it’s illegal to move when a pet falls asleep on you. Or Lance, apparently.”

“Obviously,” Shiro said dryly. “Now will you all please lower your voices. Lance is sleeping.”

“You do,” Hunk said with certainty. “You like it.”

Keith scoffed. Pidge cooed. Lance didn’t hear anymore because he was asleep.

X

**[lazy-rain-dancer](http://lazy-rain-dancer.tumblr.com/) asked: Hiya! Congrats on the 2,000 followers! :) For the the prompts, is it ok to ask for other shows besides Voltron? If so, can you do Kagami and the GOM where they try Kagami's delicious cooking for the first time? XD**

  
“So you’re staying for curry, right?” Kagami asked. His voice was impatient.

Akashi raised his eyebrows at him. He had not expected to be invited to stay, after his somewhat fraught personal conversation with Kuroko. Kagami’s distaste for him had always been obvious. He should give Kagami an out, if he was offering out of misplaced politeness.

“No need to trouble yourself on my behalf. I can have a much better meal at home, prepared by my father’s personal chef.”

There, that should do it. Give Kagami a reason to get angry at his arrogance so he would never have to invite Akashi into his personal space again.

But Akashi had miscalculated. Kagami’s eye sparked with challenge, and he actually stepped closer, until he was looming over Akashi, and looked into his face. “Okay, you know that I can’t let that go. Now you _have_ to accept my hospitality and try my cooking. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Akashi was not intimidated, certainly not. But he did agree, if only to cool Kagami’s temper.

The curry was the best he’d ever tasted. He might have wept.

 X

**[velkynkarma](http://velkynkarma.tumblr.com/) asked: Microfic! Boom Crash verse, Lance and Keith actually do the sparring they were betting on in Keet and Yance :)**

“I promise, Lance, this is gonna be fun,” Keith said.

Lance groaned, his arms hanging at his sides like a toddler dragging on the way to somewhere they didn’t want to go. “I don’t know _how.”_

“We’re gonna make a game of it, with points. If you manage to get enough good blows on me, I’ll let you write a speech for me to say to everyone else. You can make me say any ridiculous thing you want, like, ‘I eat purple underwear,’ or something like that.”

Lance eyes lit up. “How many words?”

Sudden doubt pierced Keith’s heart. “Um. As many words as hits you make. So the more hits, the longer the speech.”

Lance nodded, accepting this idea. “Can I save up words over more than one sparring session?”

“Um. Sure.”

Lance laughed, bouncing up on his feet, no longer hanging back. Before Keith knew what had happened, Lance whooped and was running ahead. “Come on, slowpoke!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Last one to the training room is a rotten egg!”

Keith grimaced and followed. This was either a really, really bad idea, or a really, really good one. He supposed he would find out.

X 

**[booksfoxesandcoffee](https://booksfoxesandcoffee.tumblr.com/) asked: for the microfic Coran and Lance cryopds**

Coran was surprised when Lance offered to help him the next time the cryopods needed to be cleaned. After he was accidentally frozen in one on the day the ship went haywire, he had thought Lance would be more wary of the task. But when Coran asked, Lance shook his head and said something about getting back on the ol’ horse, which didn’t make sense to Coran. But a lot of Earth idioms didn’t make to sense to him, and he knew a lot of his Altean idioms didn’t make sense to the humans, either, so it was fair.

Once Lance started cleaning, though, he did seem very slow and was hesitant to step inside to get the inner surface. He looked around warily, checking to make sure no indicators were lit and no buttons were pressed, then finally turned and fixed Coran with a stare. “You gonna watch out for me, right?”

There was something steady there, almost steely. Something that made Coran stand at attention and nod with military precision. “Of course, paladin. I will not let anything happen to you.”

Lance seemed to accept that, his shoulders slumping. His grip firmed around the cloth in his hand, and he stepped into the pod. “Okay. This time, instead of you talking, I’m gonna talk, okay? And if my voice stops, you come and get me _right away.”_

“Of course,” Coran said gently. “Would you like to tell me more about Earth? Why don’t you tell me about the things you like to do with that...ah...ocean you mentioned?”

“Oh, sure.” Lance’s voice relaxed even more. “So yeah, there’s lots of things you can do on the ocean. You can swim, or surf, or take out all kinds of vehicles, or go sailing, or paddleboarding, or fishing, or scuba diving, or freediving...”

It went on for a long time. Coran listened as he cleaned, smiling at the sound of his paladin’s voice. It was a good voice. He would make very sure that it would never have need to go silent.

 X

**[oldmythos](https://oldmythos.tumblr.com/) asked: For your follower special, Shiro and Lance, except this time Shiro's the sick one**

  
“Come on, Shiro,” Lance said quietly. He dug his arms under Shiro’s armpits and hauled him up again to recline against him. Shiro kept slipping, too weak to hold himself up and too heavy to just stay where Lance put him. “C’mon, fearless leader. You gotta keep breathing.”

Shiro’s eyelashes fluttered against his reddened cheeks, but didn’t open. He was breathing, yes, but with a deeply worrying wheeze that hurt Lance’s ears. Lance wrapped both arms around Shiro’s chest from behind and just concentrated on keeping him upright. It was the only thing that seemed to ease his breathing.

“Our team is coming for us, Shiro,” Lance said. He hoped his voice sounded strong and steady. He hoped it was comforting to listen to. Most of all, he hoped Shiro could hear him. “I know you’re not feeling good, but this’ll all be over soon. We just have to hold on.”

Shiro groaned and turned his head toward Lance’s voice, then went still when his forehead touched Lance’s cheek. Lance’s heart filled his throat. He pressed his head more firmly against Shiro’s.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Just keep breathing. Keep breathing, Shiro.”

Shiro breathed. Lance listened, and sometimes talked. One night of anxiety and waiting felt like a lifetime

 


	10. 2000 Followers Special, Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More microfic prompts from tumblr! Ten today instead of twenty, but about the same number of words--they're just longer than the ones I wrote yesterday. I still have like twenty more prompts to write. You can follow on my tumblr, [maychorian.](http://maychorian.tumblr.com) These fics will be under the tag [2000 follower special.](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/tagged/2000-follower-special)

**Anonymous asked: Micro prompt! Hunk+Keith showing the others Corans instructional video to prove he had a Johnny bravo style phase?**

“I still can’t believe this exists,” Pidge marveled aloud as beefy young Coran flexed and posed on the screen.

“Believe it,” Keith groused. “And we had to figure out how to complete a highly dangerous and complex task with only this to guide us.”

Lance leaned closer to the screen, his mouth open and eyes wide. Keith was pretty sure he was taking tips on how to be as weird and obnoxious as possible when he was Coran’s age in the video. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

Hunk patted him on the back. “Don’t tell Coran.”

Lance didn’t even blink. “Of course not,” he said, voice faraway.

Keith groaned and dropped his face into his hands.

 

X

 

**Anonymous asked: Lance + shiro, lance hiding a fever/injury or something (sry if this isn't too creative but you're the best @ langst)**

“We have to get back to the lions. We have to form Voltron.” 

What Lance said was indubitably true. The Paladins were all running now, through the city streets back to the spaceport on the outskirts of the town, which had the only space big enough for them to park their lions. The Robeast in the fields outside the city continued to shoot its lasers indiscriminately, occasionally hitting buildings near them as the inhabitants screamed and ran.

As usual, Shiro hung back a bit from the group, watching the others run in front of him so he could make sure no one got separated. After a moment, he realized that Lance was lagging behind, too. He was surprised at first, then narrowed his eyes when he remembered that first blast, the one that had alerted them all to the fact that the Robeast was here.

Shiro moved alongside Lance, jogging to keep pace with him. “Lance,” he hissed. “You said you were fine. When that rubble fell down on the street. I _knew_  you got hit. Why did you lie?”

Lance cut a glance over to him, then away, the guilt obvious in his eyes. “We have to get to the lions right away,” he said, voice low. “We don’t have time. It was just a glancing blow.”

Shiro halted in the street and grabbed Lance’s shoulder to stop him. Lance gasped in pain and stiffened up, and Shiro shifted his grip. He knew that chunk of broken building had hit Lance somewhere around there. He leaned in closer, looking for blood. He couldn’t see anything through the armor, and he didn’t want to make Lance strip if it wasn’t necessary, but if this was a bad injury, it needed to be dealt with right away. Before Lance ended up passing out in the cockpit or something like that.

Lance refused to look at him, leaning away tensely, though he did not try to slip out of Shiro’s grasp. “Dude, I’m fine. Really. I can handle it.”

Shiro clenched his teeth. This went against every single one of his instincts as Lance’s leader. And friend. He did not want to ask this kid to fight wounded, not if he could do anything to prevent it.

Lance looked into his eyes, strong and steady. No longer trying to escape, to brush off Shiro’s concern. “Shiro,” he said quietly, seriously. “Yes, I lied. I got hit. But I’m walking. I’m not concussed. We have to go and fight. Please, trust me. I’ll get treated when this is over.”

Shiro’s fingers tightened involuntarily around Lance’s arm, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, grimacing. He hated this. Hated it. He wanted to send Lance back to the castle so Coran could check him out _right now._

But another blast hit a nearby building, and Hunk shouted in fear somewhere up ahead, and Lance was right. They couldn’t wait. They had to get to the lions now, and they had to fight, and Lance’s injury would have to wait.

“Okay.” Shiro let go of Lance’s arm and looked into his face. “I trust you. But you’d better believe I’m gonna make sure you get taken care of as soon as possible.”

Lance grinned. “Of course.”

They ran.

 

X

 

**[tiny-angry-dragon](https://tiny-angry-dragon.tumblr.com/) asked: Can I request some Pidge angst for the follower special? (Congratulations btw) With one or some of other inhabitants of the castle?**

 

Sometimes it got to be too much. Sometimes Pidge hit a roadblock in whatever project she was working on, and everything welled up, and expanded, and overwhelmed, and she couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop feeling, couldn’t make herself do anything else. Sometimes she couldn’t sleep, no matter how much she wanted to. Sometimes the company of the other paladins grated on her nerves, their laughter, their jokes, their hopefulness, and she wanted to yell at them that none of them knew how much it hurt, how much it hurt to be alone. It wouldn’t do any good, and it wasn’t true, anyway. All of them knew how much it to hurt to be alone, to be away from their families. Pidge knew that. So she didn’t yell. She walked away.

Sometimes she found herself on the command deck, staring out at the stars, wondering if one of the pinpricks of light out there was where her father was, or if he was so far away that she wouldn’t be able to see him with the visible spectrum even if she knew where to look. Sometimes she sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, her face hidden against her knees. Sometimes she cried, small, hidden, only for herself.

Sometimes Allura found her there. Sometimes she sat next to Pidge and said nothing, only rested a hand on her back. Sometimes she hummed, old Altean melodies and lullabies that no one knew anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Pidge said once, when she could keep herself from sobbing in the middle of her words. “I never should have said that, about how I was going to get my father back, knowing that you couldn’t.”

Allura sighed and rubbed her back. “I understand,” she said. “I’m sorry my father is gone, and I will never see him again. But I’m glad that your father is out there waiting to be found, nevertheless. Both things can be true simultaneously.”

Pidge nodded, and shivered, and watched the stars. Allura sang in Altean, and Pidge hummed shakily along, messing up the melody but still trying. Someday she would know the words and would sing with her, but for now, they sat together, and grieved their loss together, and neither of them were alone.

 

X

 

**Anonymous asked: For the microfic, could you write a post-Blade of Marmora thing with Keith telling the team bout being part Galra and Shiro standing up for him?**

The crew stood in stunned silence for a moment, taking it in. Lance blinked quickly, Hunk stood with his forehead creased, and Pidge looked more curious than anything else. Coran was silent in the back, looking at Allura. Allura, though… Her face was slowly being overwhelmed with anger.

She looked to Keith, and her face screwed up, ugly in distress and distaste. “You have Galra blood? And never thought to tell us?”

Keith swallowed. He had been unable to speak when it came time to tell the story, so Shiro had done it for him. Now, though, he needed to respond. “I didn’t know.”

Shiro took a half step forward, almost blocking Keith from Allura’s view. “It doesn’t matter. He’s still Keith. He’s still the Red Paladin. He is the same person he’s been all along.”

Allura’s lips drew back, baring her teeth. “I think you know as well as I do, Shiro, that it matters very much that we have a Galra on this ship, and have done all along.”

“No,” Shiro said, calm, solid. “Keith is still Keith. And now we are making an alliance with more Galra, enemies of Zarkon just as we are. You have already chosen to accept them. Why…”

“That’s a matter of necessity,” Allura interrupted. “We need this alliance to defeat Zarkon, we…” She paused and looked over Shiro’s shoulder, where Keith was standing. Something in her eyes shifted, though it wasn’t a happy look on her. She swallowed, then looked back to Shiro. Her voice wavered. “Yes, I understand that having Keith as the Red Paladin is a necessity as well. Never mind. Carry on.”

But she stepped back and folded her arms over her chest, and she refused to meet Keith’s eyes from that moment on.

 

X

 

**[ptw30](https://ptw30.tumblr.com/) asked: Hihi! Feel free to ignore this - I love your work and always crave more, but you've been kind enough to write me a microfic for an earlier milestone. :) But if you are able - Shiro & Keith - something with Shiro's galra arm. Thank you and congratulations on 2k followers!**

 

The third time Shiro reached out to touch Keith’s shoulder, then hesitated and pulled back because he’d automatically used the right hand, Keith rolled his eyes. He had tried to be patient, tried to give Shiro time to get over his hang-ups. Wasn’t it Shiro who always counseled patience? But Shiro wasn’t getting used to it, and Keith was tired of waiting for him. 

He had no problem with the Galra arm. It belonged to Shiro, and therefore it would never hurt Keith, nor anyone else that Shiro cared about. That was that, as far as Keith was concerned, a stone-cold truth of the universe. It was only Shiro who needed convincing.

So this time, Keith watched and waited. Shiro started to reach out, paused, pulled back, all set to switch to the left hand instead. And Keith spoke up.

“Shiro.” His voice was quiet, but intense. Shiro held still for a moment, staring at him.

Keith smiled. “It’s okay.” Then he reached out and grabbed Shiro’s wrist. The right one. He pulled the Galra arm toward him, set the hand on his shoulder, and rested his own hand over it. He didn’t break eye contact with Shiro the entire time.

“Shiro. It’s okay.”

Keith smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. Shiro stared at him, wide-eyed, then smiled back. His hand tightened on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith pressed his hand more firmly on top of it.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s you.”

Sure, patience yielded focus and all. But sometimes, you just had to act.

 

X

 

**[tymedfire](http://tymedfire.tumblr.com/) asked: Microfic: whatever the hell you want, just with Lance.**

 

Lance was missing at dinner. The whole group was worried, but when Hunk nominated himself to hunt him down, they all accepted that, looking relieved. Hunk was the best choice for anything Lance-related, ninety-nine percent of the time.

Lance wasn’t in the lounge, or his room, or on the command deck, or with Blue. Hunk kept looking, wandering the halls, footsteps gradually slowing. Then he heard chittering at his feet and looked down. The blue mouse, Chulatt, waved its arms to get his attention, then darted down the hall. It paused and looked back to make sure he was following, and Hunk did.

Chulatt led him to a random corner of a random hallway, far away from the inhabited areas. Lance was sitting with his back to the corner, his hood pulled over his head and his knees raised to his chest. The other mice were there, scampering around on the floor next to him. Lance was playing with them, somewhat listlessly, dragging his fingers on the floor for them to chase, then turning his hand around and tickling their tummies.

At the sound of Hunk’s footsteps, Lance glanced up at him, then down again. He stopped moving, his hand still on the floor, and the three mice curled up in his palm as if forming their own tiny cuddle pile, soon joined by Chulatt as well. Hunk sighed, then walked slowly over and slid down to sit in next to Lance. The glimpse of Lance’s face had been brief, but he’d been able to see that his eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks streaked with teartracks.

“Tell me?” Hunk asked, soft as could be.

Lance shrugged, his head still down. His fingers twitched around the little pile of mice in his hand, like a very careful hug. “I just…” His voice was thick. “Just needed to be alone. I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. I missed supper, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Hunk scooted closer and very slowly, very gently put his arm around Lance’s shoulders, careful not to get in the way of the mouse-pile. “There’s plenty left though, when you’re ready to head back.”

Hunk understood the need to just find somewhere to cry where no one could interrupt or try to help or ask what was wrong. Sometimes there was nothing anyone else could do. Sometimes you just needed to let it all out. It didn’t make his heart hurt any less, but he understood.

Lance sniffled, then rested his head on Hunk’s shoulder. “I just… I miss them.”

“I know.” Hunk leaned his head against Lance’s. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t tell the others?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. We can tell them you fell asleep in Blue or something. But everyone would understand, you know.”

“I know. I just…” Lance sighed and slumped a little further into Hunk’s side. “It’s my burden to bear. And I kinda… Kinda want it that way. They’re my family. It’s supposed to hurt to be away from them. I don’t want it to fade. I don’t want to get used to this.”

Hunk’s heart ached. “Sure. Whatever you need.” He turned his head and planted a kiss in Lance’s hair. “Let’s just sit here for a little while, then.”

“Thank you.”

 

X

 

**Anonymous asked: Shiro & Lance, both worrying about Keith after he gets hurt?**

 

There were hands on him, too many, too confusing. Keith tried to fight, tried to bat them away, but his vision was blurring in and out and he was weirdly weak. “Sit still, you idiot, I’m trying to help you…” Lance’s voice, and Keith fought harder, though he didn’t know why.

“Keith.” A deeper voice, more quiet, closer to his ear. Shiro. Keith went still at once, and the hands on him shifted. They pressed against him, and Keith squirmed, a gasp of pain wrenching out of him. There was a wet squelch, something thick sliding over his skin.

“Of course he listens to you,” Lance’s voice again, high and complaining. “What the quiznak, Keith. Even when you’re almost dead you’ll listen to Shiro and not me?”

Keith sucked in a breath and tried to open his eyes, couldn’t do it. One of the hands on him moved away from the place that hurt and swept through his hair. It was a big hand, warm and comforting and Shiro, and Keith relaxed.

Shiro chuckled, deep and reassuring. “It’s a good sign, Lance. Means he’s still in there. Everything’ll be okay. We just have to get him back to the castle.”

“Yeah, sure, act like this is normal and Keith isn’t an actual freak from the planet Freakazoid,” Lance grumbled, but his hand moved too, slim and soft. His palm cupped carefully around Keith’s cheek; his thumb nudged at his eye. “You in there, buddy-boy? You gotta pull through or Shiro will be wrong, and we can’t have that.”

Keith opened his eyes again, saw a blur of a brown face leaning over him. He huffed out a breath through his nose and nodded, once, his head loose and lolling. His head spun from the effort, and he went still.

Lance let go of his cheek and went back to pressing his wound with Shiro, four hands, two large and strong, two smaller but still strong. Keith felt utterly safe. He closed his eyes.

 

X

 

**Anonymous asked: I'm not sure if you're still doing the prompts but Natsume Takashi and Shigeru prompt: family**

 

“Shigeru-san?” Takashi’s voice was soft and hesitant, as usual.

Shigeru looked up from his papers and gave him the most encouraging smile he could. “Yes, Takashi? What is it?”

Takashi stepped cautiously closer, holding a book in front of his stomach with some papers sticking out. “I…I was having trouble understanding this equation and I thought maybe…you could explain it to me?”

Shigeru’s heart swelled. He had to turn away for a moment to compose himself. This was the first time Takashi had asked for help with his homework, or asked for anything, really. Touko was right. They truly were becoming a family.

He passed his hand over his eyes to dismiss the tears, then turned back, smiling even more broadly. “Of course! I would be happy to. Let’s have a look at it.”

Takashi smiled back, small but sweet, and crossed the distance between them.

 

X

 

**[ace-keith](http://ace-keith.tumblr.com/) asked: If you're still doing the microfics, can I please ask for hurt Keith and protective Shiro? Congratulations on your follower milestone! :3**

 

“Stay back!” Shiro’s head was reeling, but he forced himself upright and interposed himself between his fallen teammate and the group of creatures moving toward them. His Galra arm was glowing already, and he stood defensively, unwilling to move forward and leave Keith behind but certainly not allowing himself to be pushed back.

The five or six aliens approaching through the trees paused and glanced at each other, beady black eyes narrowing, the spines on their back and heads rippling in what looked like conscious patterns. Shiro wondered distantly if they could communicate with those. Most of him didn’t care. These creatures were enormous and seemed highly dangerous, and he wasn’t going to let them get anywhere near Keith.

After some silent communication, one of the smaller aliens at the front of the group took one step forward, upper limbs cautiously outstretched. As Shiro watched, gaze darting back and forth, it retracted the claws at the end of each digit on its six upper appendages. It looked at Shiro without blinking. “Visitor.” Even its voice was careful, almost soft. “You crash-landed from the sky, yes? Your companion is injured?”

Involuntarily, Shiro glanced behind him at where Keith was sprawled in a pile of bracken, limp and unmoving. He had responded weakly when Shiro had dragged them both out of the destroyed pod ship, but hadn’t said anything for the last twenty minutes or so. Shiro wasn’t sure about the extent of his injuries, but he knew they were serious.

He looked forward and raised his glowing arm again. “Don’t touch him,” he spat.

The spokescreature took a tiny step back and raised its upper limbs even higher in the universal symbol of surrender. “We mean no harm to you, sky-traveler. One of our members is a healer. If you will allow us to have a look, we may be able to help.”

Shiro panted for breath and stared into its face, trying to read the truth on a face with features that had few equivalents to human anatomy. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. He had no idea if he could believe what this alien was saying. But Keith was hurt, possibly dying. Shiro’s only option might be to trust these people, whoever they might be.

A chance, even a slim chance, was better than no chance. Shiro slowly straightened, his Galra arm lowering to his side as it deactivated. “Very well,” he said. “I would appreciate your assistance, if you can offer it. But I will not leave my friend’s side, and I warn you, if I have a reason to attack, I can move very, very quickly.”

The spokescreature moved its head slowly in what might have been something like a nod, then looked back to the group and waved an appendage. Another alien, this one presumably a healer, began to move forward. Shiro kept an eye on it, as well as the others, but let them approach.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

 

X

 

**[sednamode](http://sednamode.tumblr.com/) asked: Congrats on the milestone!! For a prompt how about something silly like pidge taking shiro on an exploration of the castle's ventilation system for some reason except shiro gets stuck cause he's so much bigger**

 

“In my defense, you really did fit through most of the vents, just like I said you would.”

“Yes, but I’m stuck _now.”_ Shiro knew he sounded whiny. He didn’t care. He wiggled his body as much as he could, but his shoulders were still jammed firmly into what was supposed to be an opening. Well, it didn’t count as an opening if it wasn’t open, which it wasn’t, because Shiro was jammed into it like a cork in a bottle.

Yeah, even his thoughts were whiny.

Pidge’s face contorted as she struggled not to laugh. She had flipped herself to face backward in the passage ahead and was tugging on Shiro’s shoulders, trying to free him while he pushed with his legs from behind. It wasn’t working. She didn’t have the right leverage, and with his arms trapped at his sides, he couldn’t get any kind of momentum.

They struggled for a few moments, grunting with effort, then both gave up at the same moment, going limp. The vent was getting too hot with both of them in there. And with Shiro blocking the passage of air.

“I could get Coran,” Pidge offered again. She had first suggested that option ten minutes ago, when Shiro had thought he might still have a chance to get out on his own. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Does it have to be Coran?” Shiro asked, weary just at the thought. “He’ll be all…cheerful about it. And he’ll pat my head and call me ‘little paladin,’ the way he does every time I get myself in trouble. I hate that.”

Pidge chewed her lip, but the corners of her mouth still curled in an irrepressible smile. “The only other option would be Hunk, and he would get even more stuck than you.”

Shiro blew out a huge, enormous sigh and gave up. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Get Coran.”

Quiznak, he was never gonna live this down. He was never going to let Pidge talk him into helping her with a prank on Keith and Lance again.


	11. 2000 Followers Special, Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only six microfics today. More to come!

**Anonymous asked: Congrats on doin' the thing. I hope you keep doin' the thing. Can we get Pidge and Hunk working on something together and Pidge falling asleep on the big guy? Platonic please! <3**

Hunk blinked, eyes tracking to the next word on the list. He was getting better at understanding the Altean syllables, though he knew his pronunciation was still crap. Allura and Coran would laugh their heads off, if they could hear him. But he and Pidge were both beginners, so they understood each other fine. It was easier with the just two of them, actually, since they both talked very slowly and sounded everything out with great care. And probably had the same awful, awful accent. “Okay, what about, um… Ahl-ni-rrrAH-kan?”

Pidge grunted and paged through the Altean dictionary to find the word. She was more advanced than Hunk was, yet, so she was better at understanding the definitions. “That’s…a fine red powder from the planet Kokor, with a slightly bitter, savory flavor, used most often in soups and stews.”

“Hmm.” Hunk turned that over in his mind, until he could picture one of the tiny containers in the equivalent of a spice cabinet in the kitchen. He had gone on a tasting spree earlier in the day, so he was pretty sure he knew which spice matched that description. “Okay, I think I know what that one is.” When he went back to the kitchen, he would make a label. “Moving on to the next ingredient…”

Pidge yawned and leaned more heavily into his side. “Are you sure translating this recipe is really gonna be worth it?”

“Allura says this is one of Coran’s favorites, and he’s been really stressed lately trying to keep the castle together. I want to do something nice for him.”

Pidge hummed and nestled her head against him. “Too bad we’re so busy we can only work on this late at night, when everything is else pretty much okay and no one’s attacking.”

“Yeah.” Hunk reached over and patted her head. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

She mumbled something like, “Y'r w'l'c’m,” and Hunk smiled.

“Okay, next ingredient…”

A soft, muffled snore interrupted him, and Hunk looked down at the fluffy head pressed into his shoulder. Pidge was asleep, and Hunk was pretty much there himself.

Hunk smiled and set the tablet aside, leaning back into the sofa behind him and making himself a better place for Pidge to lean. Coran wouldn’t mind waiting one more day for his surprise.

  
X

**Anonymous asked: For the microfic: the mice had been awaiting their fifth for a long time. (Shiro didn't go anywhere, he was just turned into a mouse)**

Shiro woke surrounded by warmth. At first he was confused, but then he realized; after the battle, he and the other paladins must have been too tired to make it to their rooms and just fell asleep in one of the lounges again. He heard quiet breaths around him, felt the warmth of others’ bodies close to his. It was entirely pleasant and peaceful, and his eyes drifted shut again.

Then a different sensation caught his attention, and he wiggled his nose, which was buried in something incredibly soft and warm. It was so silky and smooth, yet it wasn’t cloth, nor skin. It was…fur? Did one of the paladins find the equivalent of a fur coat in a closet somewhere and bring it to the cuddle pile? But, no, it wasn’t loose enough for a fur coat, it was alive and moving, it was…

Shiro’s eyes popped open. He was buried in a pile of warm, furry, multi-colored bodies. His nose was extremely sensitive, much more sensitive than it have ever been before, and he wiggled it, scenting the air and the bodies around him. He…he knew this place. He knew these people. He knew these…

_Mice._

His agitated movement had finally woken the others. One of the mice lifted its head and looked back at Shiro, eyes narrowed in contentment, whiskers twitching. Shiro recognized that face, though he had never, never seen it this close before. It was Platt.

Shiro screamed. It came out as an incredibly high-pitched, elongated squeak.

X

**[jollysunflora](http://jollysunflora.tumblr.com/) asked: Allura, lance, tattoos?**

It was the first planet they visited that had a culture of tattooing similar to Earth. Lance enjoyed walking around the market, just seeing all of the artwork on display. Allura was with him, the two of them checking out the wares and looking for certain items they were both missing for their beauty regimens. Allura was just as fascinated by the tattoos as Lance, though she was slightly more discreet and diplomatic than Lance about studying them. No one was bothered by Lance’s unabashed scrutiny and enthusiastic delight, though–the people enjoyed sharing their bodyart and commenting on what their fellows had chosen to decorate themselves with.

On the way back to the castle, Lance had a thought and turned to Allura. “Hey, Princess, I was thinking about when I get to go home to Earth.”

Allura looked at him, one eyebrow raised. She had no idea where this was going. “Yes?”

“I really like the colorful marks you and Coran have under your eyes.” Lance gestured at his cheek, sweeping his thumb and forefinger to show where the mark would be on his face. “Would it be, like, disrespectful of me to get tattoos like that? You know, to remember you guys by.”

Allura frowned, and Lance immediately retracted the statement, waving his hands and looking away with a blush. “No, no, never mind, that was rude of me. Sorry. I shouldn’t even think of stealing something from your culture like that.”

“It’s not stealing,” Allura said gently. “Rather, I’m…honored that you would even consider permanently marking your body to resemble me and Coran. But I don’t think it’s necessary, really. You won’t need anything to remember us by. Even after this war is over, we’ll see each other often.”

Lance grinned, shoulders relaxing. “Okay, that’s cool. But don’t you think I’d look better with marks like that? If I looked more like an Altean?”

“Better?” Allura scoffed and reached over to ruffle his hair, hard and strong. “You already look perfect the way you are, silly boy.”

Lance grinned harder and stared away again, blushing even more deeply, but this time for a different reason.

X

**Anonymous asked: Lance and Coran and hugs please! For the microfic thing! Thank you!!!**

“Has anyone seen Coran?” Lance asked, bouncing from person to person. It wasn’t anything important, really, he just wanted to tell Coran about his breakthrough on his individual training. He had finally managed to put down thirty targets in sixty ticks, after weeks of trying. Coran was going to be so proud.

Allura hadn’t seen him, nor Shiro, nor Hunk. Finally, Keith tilted his head in thought. “I think I saw him outside.”

“Outside?” Lance blinked. The castle ship was currently parked on a planet, but the surroundings were rather arid and inhospitable. “Outside where?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Sitting on a rock?”

Lance scowled. This was getting him nowhere. “Just point me in the right direction, would you?”

Keith did. Lance walked out into what amounted to a temperate desert, not too hot, but barren and rocky, the landscape in shades of red and yellows. After a couple of minutes of walking, he did indeed find Coran, sitting on a huge boulder and staring off into the distance.

“Coran!” Lance waved, and Coran turned and waved back, then gestured for Lance to join him. Lance climbed nimbly up to meet him, then plopped down on the rock next to him and looked around. “Hey, nice view.” For what it was. Lance would have preferred an ocean or a forest, but he could appreciate a pretty landscape with the best of them.

Coran nodded, not quite as enthusiastically as Lance would have expected. He watched Coran’s profile for a moment, thoughtful. “Hey, what were you doing out here? Did I interrupt something?”

Coran shook himself out of his fugue at once and turned to Lance with a reassuring smile. “Not at all, my boy. I was just…lost in thought.”

Lance watched him, eyebrows raised. “What were you thinking about?”

Coran sighed, shoulders slumping, and looked forward. “Just…how much my son would have liked it here. He was always fond of rocky landscapes like this. Loved to race his hoverbike. He would make his own path, go as fast as he possibly could, and worry his parents most grievously. Oh, how he laughed…” 

His voice was so, so sad.

Lance was frozen, staring with wide eyes. “Your…your son?” It was a stricken whisper.

Coran smiled at him again, though there were tears in his eyes. “Yes, my son. Colin. I had a son, long ago. He’s gone now, as gone as Altea. I’m sorry. I do miss him. But I didn’t mean to distress you by talking about him.”

Lance gaped at him. “Don’t be sorry! I just…you never mentioned you had a son, and I never thought…why didn’t I think?”

“Never mind that, my boy. Why did you come to find me?”

Lance shook his head. “Forget about that. I’ll tell you later. Can I give you a hug?”

Coran nodded, and Lance leaned closer and threw his arms around him and held on as tight as he could. After a moment, Coran hugged him back. They pressed close and held each other, and Coran shuddered, but he didn’t cry. No tears fell.

So Lance cried for him instead. 

X

**Anonymous asked: So it's entirely your fault that I got sucked into the world of a bunch of crazy volleyball and basketball players (Haikuu and Kuroko). I thought "I'll just watch a couple episodes to see who Kageyama is since she keeps calling Keith 'Space Kageyama'." Next thing I know I'm marathoning it and then I read your crossover and had to find out who Kuroko was... Yeah. I love it. So with that in mind: Hinata and Kagami run into each other again. Optional: Suga and Kuroko are there too.**

They bumped into each other on the street, literally, Hinata not looking where he was going so he struck Kagami’s solid frame and rebounded, then landed on his rear on the sidewalk with a loud, “Uwaah!”

They didn’t recognize each other at first. Kagami was much, much taller than Hinata now, and when they’d known each other in elementary school they’d been almost the same height. But Kagami stared down at the little fellow sitting there on the sidewalk and rubbing his bottom, and something about that bright orange hair struck his memory. Hinata looked up with wide eyes, growing wider when he saw Kagami’s red hair and bushy eyebrows. He gasped in surprise and delight, pointing up at Kagami like a dog pointing at prey. “It’s you!”

Kagami’s eyebrows bent for a moment, then straightened out. He beamed, bright as sunlight. “It’s you!”

Hinata bounced to his feet and starting chattering. “Taiga! You’re in Tokyo! And I’m in Tokyo too! What are you doing here? Do you live here? How long have you been here? Oh man, when you moved away from Miyagi, things were a lot less fun without you! I can’t believe I get to see you again! This week has been so full of cool things!”

Kagami threw back his head and laughed. “Shouyou! It’s good to see you too! Are you still jumping in sports that don’t need jumping very much?”

“Nope!” Hinata grinned, wide and delighted. “I found a sport where I have to jump all day every day just to keep up!”

“Perfect!”

On the sidelines, Suga and Kuroko had slowly edged toward each other until they stood elbow to elbow, watching this meeting of two beams of sunshine clash and sparkle in a cascade of light. They had been texting for hours, now, trying to find a way to get these two to meet, having figured out quite some time ago that these were the “childhood friends” both Kagami and Hinata had never forgotten about even years later.

“Mission accomplished,” Suga murmured out of the side of his mouth to Kuroko, eyes sparkling. Kuroko silently lifted his hand for a fist bump, which Suga gave him. Mission accomplished, indeed.

X

**[pastelkingalex](http://pastelkingalex.tumblr.com/) asked: Keith and Lance about the ocean... congrats on the follower miles stone!!!!**

It was very late, and the paladins were very tired after a series of exhausting missions. After a celebratory party with too much nunvill, Keith and Lance found themselves lying on their backs on the floor of a lounge, staring listlessly at the ceiling. There was noise and chatter elsewhere in the ship, but neither of were interested in joining it.

“You know, the desert is like the ocean,” Keith said.

Lance grunted. “Explain.”

“Big and empty.”

“Except not,” Lance said indignantly. “Even out in the open ocean where there’s not a lot going on, there’s still tons of life everywhere.”

“The desert, too,” Keith objected. “Even the driest and most deadly desert has life in it, from tiny plants to animals that hide under the ground and come out at night.”

“Yeah, but coral reefs are in the ocean, too, and they have _tons_  of life. Way more than anywhere in the desert does.”

“Excuse you, have you ever seen a desert after a flashflood? Green! Life! Migrations! And that’s over a much larger percentage of the desert than your precious coral reefs.”

“Yeah, but…” The absurdity of the entire conversation suddenly struck Lance, and he let out a blast of laughter. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.”

Keith tilted his head up to give him an irritated look, his eyes dark with the shadows of exhaustion. “Serves you right. You couldn’t just agree with my stupid, sleep-deprived observation?”

“No, you’re right.” Lance rolled over on his side and curled into a loose ball. His entire body heaved with a yawn. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right. The ocean is totally like the desert. Big and empty.”

Keith grunted in satisfaction.

“How ‘bout this for a dumb, sleep-deprived observation?” Lance asked. “Hunk is like a cup.”

“Explain.”

“Holds things.”

Keith snorted with laughter and rolled over, too, his head close to Lance’s, voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Pidge is like a bug.”

“Explain.”

“Gets into all the computer programs.”

They snickered together. The observations only got weirder and more hilarious from there, until they both fell asleep.

 


	12. 2000 Followers Special, Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight microfics today, but three of them are a little series. More to come!

**Anonymous asked: If you're still taking prompts, could you write a microfic with Coran being fatherly to Lance?**

Continued from [here.](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159962249691/lance-and-coran-and-hugs-please-for-the-microfic)

They walked back to the castle, Coran’s arm wrapped around Lance’s shoulders. Lance’s eyes were still a little red, but he’d gotten rid of the tears. “What was it you had wanted to tell me?” Coran asked.

Lance started a bit in remembrance. “Oh!” He turned his head to give Coran a brilliant grin. “I beat my goal!”

Coran blinked, then felt a broad grin taking over his own face, as well. “Your individual training? Thirty targets in sixty ticks?”

“Yeah!” Lance looked down at his hands, flexing in front of him. “I’m really getting used to the bayard now. It feels exactly how I need it to feel, just like you said. I thought there was going to be a learning curve, going from Earth weapons to paladin weapons, but it turned out to be the opposite. This way is _easier._ It’s made for me, just for me, and it feels fantastic.”

Coran and squeezed his shoulders. “Good! I’m glad you figured it out.”

“I knew you’d be happy,” Lance said with satisfaction.

 _“Happy?_  I’m ecstatic! Proud as a fangorm mother! What’s the Earth expression…I’m over the moon!”

Lance laughed, beautiful and bright. It reminded Coran, just a touch, of Colin. But Lance was not Coran’s lost son. He was not a replacement. He was his own person, as precious to Coran as anyone in his life had ever been.

Coran turned his head and kissed Lance on the side of the head with a resounding smack, making him guffaw and cringe away and rub the spot as if it had embarrassed him. They went back to the castle, leaving the memories behind, but also carrying them with them. Exactly as they should.

X

**Anonymous asked: For the three sentence thing, how about the space mice trying to cheer up Matt?**

It was strange, trying to adapt to a ship full of people, some whom used to know him but didn’t anymore. Matt felt the expectation in Katie’s hopeful expression, in Shiro’s warm glances. They wanted him to be who he used to be. He wasn’t. He knew Shiro wasn’t, either, so at least he understood, but Katie… Katie was harder to deal with.

The noises grated on him, sometimes. It was a cheerful ship, by and large, full of busy people who enjoyed each other’s company, who laughed and argued and fought together like a well-oiled machine. Matt didn’t fit, not yet, maybe not ever. He hadn’t fit in with the rebels, either, but that time had been one of constant battle, always running from one crisis to the next, so he’d never had a chance to slow down and feel just how badly he didn’t belong.

It was easier to be alone. It was a big ship, so there was a lot to explore. Matt had always wanted to be an explorer. So he wandered. He found labs and dorms and training rooms and recreational areas, even something that looked like an indoor skating park, long unused. When he tired of walking, he sat against a wall and just felt himself be where he was, who he was.

The others left him alone when he got in these moods. All except the mice. It seemed that they liked to explore, too. Sometimes he would turn a corner and find one or two or all four of them, seeming to have a conversation with each other, searching along the walls and inspecting everything they could find. Sometimes they joined his walks, running along at his heels or climbing up to perch on his shoulders so they could see afar. Matt never minded.

Sometimes it all got to be too much, and he sat in a corner and let himself drift, trying not to think, trying not to be. The mice distracted him, then, performing feats of acrobatics before his eyes, making him laugh and forget himself. When even that didn’t work, when he curled up in a ball and wept against his knees, they climbed onto his shoulders and into his hair and nudged him with their little noses, rubbed their furry warmth against his aching skin, groomed him with their tiny, tickling tongues.

He couldn’t take the touch of other people, sometimes, couldn’t stand their gazes, their eyes. It was too hot, too bright, too expectant, and he had nothing to give, nothing to offer to a universe so large and overwhelming. But the mice were small. They demanded nothing. Their touches were light and soft and bearable.

When he couldn’t take anything else, couldn’t give anything else, he was glad for the smallest of company.

X

**Anonymous asked: Congratulations! You deserve the follows because you are so amazing! If you feel like it, how about Shiro and Pidge, Shiro being a good stand-in dad to her? Thank you!**

“You’re not my dad!” she screamed, and ran from the room.

Shiro stood there flummoxed for a moment, then gave chase. “You’re not my daughter, either!” he bellowed.

Pidge laughed like an electrical storm, sharp and fierce. Shiro caught up and dragged her to the ground, then pinned her there, tickling her stomach until she shrieked. “Now are you gonna listen to my orders?” he asked, trying to speak sternly around a grin.

Pidge lay there, panting. “I won’t go to bed. You can’t make me!”

“We’ll see about that.” Shiro stood up and flung her over his shoulder. She laughed and pounded his back, not hard enough to hurt. “Tomorrow is a big day, young lady, and you need your rest.”

She went limp and let herself be carried, still giggling against his back. Shiro hoped this didn’t become a routine, but for a one-time thing, it worked.

X

**Anonymous asked: *cough* um...okay, Lance and Hunk and fluffy bunny pajama. Sorry for disturbing your day. And thanks!**

Another space mall, another amazing find. “Hunk, Hunk, Hunk, you gotta come see, come and look at the thing!”

Hunk let himself be dragged, laughing at Lance’s enthusiasm. “You gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to wait and see?”

“You have to wait and see. You’ll never believe me otherwise.”

At the window of the clothes shop, both boys stood and stared with sparkling eyes and awed expressions. “Look at it!” Hunk squealed.

“I know, right?”

“It’s perfect!”

They thundered inside. But their faces fell when they saw the size, and that it was the only one available. “Aw, man,” Lance mourned. “I had my hopes so high.”

Hunk patted his back in commiseration. “We can still get it, though. I know someone it will fit.”

Lance halted in confusion, then grinned, wide and mischievous. “Ha, yes! It’s perfect for her.”

Pidge was not pleased. Fluffy bunny pajamas were not her speed. But Hunk and Lance gave her such huge puppy eyes that she could not deny them. The next time they had a team movie night, she was there, cotton tail and all. Hunk and Lance cooed like proud parents and insisted that she sit between them, where they could pat her velvet hood and stroke her long silky ears whenever they felt like it. She withstood this treatment with a grumpy sigh.

Next time, they were going to have to pay for this privilege. Hunk and Lance had no idea the bribery potential they had just put in Pidge’s hands.

X

**Anonymous asked: hunk and shiro with hammocks? congrats on 2k!**

“This is the life.” Shiro sighed as his hammock swayed in the breeze. “Thank you for rigging these up, Hunk.”

Hunk grunted in acknowledgement, already drifting. The others were playing beach volleyball or something, somewhere off in the distance. Their voices faded into insignificance as Hunk’s eyes closed and his worries faded.

“Next time, I’m making cocktails, too.”

Shiro laughed, warm and content.

X

**Anonymous asked: Some Pidge and Lance angst for the prompt?**

“Would you just stop pestering me?” It came out as a scream, much louder than Pidge had intended. Lance paused, in the middle of reaching out to poke her shoulder, his eyes wide.

Pidge screamed all the time. Especially at Lance and Hunk, whenever they dared to mess with her or her stuff. But this was different than usual. This one sounded genuine, not just irritated, but enraged. So Lance froze in sudden doubt, his face lengthening in dismay.

Pidge didn’t care. She couldn’t stop. She tore her headphones off and threw them across the room. Her shoulders were heaving, and she knew her face was red as a tomato, the way it always got when she was truly, furiously upset. He’d been keeping up this campaign of “poke the Pidge” all day along, apparently because he was bored and she was the only one available, and Pidge was done with it. Done with him. It was just…too familiar, and she couldn’t stand it for one second more.

“I’ve had enough of you bothering me, Lance! Don’t poke me, don’t touch me, don’t giggle in my ear! I’ve had enough! You aren’t my brother, and I don’t want you to be!” Her voice rose in the end to an infuriated screech.

Lance fell back on his butt and just stared at her. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face seemed paler than usual. Sudden regret pierced Pidge’s heart, but before she could say anything, do anything, try to take it back, he jumped to his feet and ran out of the room.

Oh, quiznak. She had really screwed up this time.

(Continued below.)

X

**Anonymous asked: Hey! I simply adore your writing probanly read the boom crash series like 5 times already! So hopefully if I am not to late we can have some Shiro being protective of Lance?**

(Continued from above)

“Shiro, can you talk to Lance?” Hunk’s voice was worried, and Shiro looked up from his reading in immediate concern.

“Of course. Where is he? What’s up?”

Hunk walked into his room and started pacing back and forth, his fists in front of his stomach, knuckles rubbing together anxiously. He spoke very fast, but very clear, and Shiro’s stomach knotted up as he listened. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what’s up, but I do know where he is. He’s hiding in Blue, been there for two hours. Usually that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I’m pretty sure I saw tears on his face when he ran through the hangar and shut himself in there. I tried to get him to come out or talk to me, but he says I can’t help and he just needs to be alone. So then I went to see if I could figure out what happened, and Pidge was in her lab all upset too, and she said she said something mean to Lance. She didn’t want to talk about it and told me to go away, but I think she feels guilty so she’ll probably come around. So I was hoping maybe Lance would talk to you, because he’ll talk to you if he’ll talk to anyone, and I’ll try to work on Pidge and bring her around, and maybe we can fix this?”

He stopped pacing and looked at Shiro head on, a hopeful look on his face. Shiro stood up at once and nodded, his lips pressed grimly together, an uncomfortable warmth igniting in his heart. He knew Lance had been feeling more down than usual in the last few days, missing his family, but hanging out with Pidge and Hunk usually helped him deal. It surprised Shiro how angry he felt now, at the realization that Pidge had hurt instead of helped.

“Excellent idea,” he said briskly. “You talk to Pidge, and I’ll go to Lance. I don’t think I would be very kind if I talked to Pidge right now, but I’m sure you’re the right man for the job.” Hunk looked confused, but Shiro just clapped his shoulder and left the room, jogging as soon as he hit the hall.

Blue’s barrier was up, but Shiro barely had to touch it before it fell. Seemed like Blue agreed with Hunk that Shiro was the best choice for this. He jogged up the ramp and found Lance in the cockpit. He wasn’t even sitting in his pilot chair, but was curled up in a ball in the corner with his face pressed to his knees. He didn’t look up at Shiro’s entrance, probably because he didn’t want him to see how hard he’d been crying.

“Aw, Lance.” Shiro fell to his knees beside him with a hefty sigh. He hated seeing any of the other paladins hurting, but sometimes it seemed like Lance could be the most vulnerable, the most fragile, the most in need of protection. Not physically, but emotionally. The worst thing about this situation was that one of Lance’s teammates, someone he considered family, had hurt him this time and not some outside force that Shiro could cut down with his arm or Keith could burn up with fire or Hunk could blast away with his cannon.

“C'mon, buddy.” Shiro reached out and laid his hands on Lance’s arms, then rubbed up and down in an attempt to warm him. Lance shivered under his touch, but didn’t otherwise respond. “I need you to talk to me, kiddo. Hunk said Pidge said something mean to you. Can you tell me what it was?”

Lance shook his head. “It wasn’t that big a deal,” he croaked. “I shouldn’t be this upset about it.”

“Lance, no,” Shiro scooted a little closer, encouraged that at least Lance was talking. “It’s okay to be upset by someone’s words, especially someone you trust. Can you tell me at least something about why you’re sad?”

Lance rolled his head over and looked at Shiro with one eye. Shiro wasn’t surprised to see that it was rimmed with red and tears were clumping his eyelashes. “It’s not Pidge’s fault. Don’t be mad at her.”

Shiro clenched his teeth. “I’m not mad at Pidge.”

Lance gave him a skeptical blink. “Yes, you are.”

Shiro’s hand had clenched into a fist, and he deliberately loosened it. “C'mon, don’t talk to me about Pidge. Tell me about yourself.”

Lance’s face screwed up, what Shiro could see of it, and he hid against his knees again. “I’m…I’m annoying. I’m a bother. I make people angry just by being myself.” He was breaking down as he spoke, falling back into helpless tears, and Shiro could only watch in dismay. “I’m a nuisance, and I don’t belong here, and I don’t want to be here, and I’m sorry, Shiro, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth, and I can’t help feeling bad about it…”

“Lance, Lance, no no no.” Shiro’s heart felt like it was turning to ash in his chest. He surged forward and pulled Lance into his arms, muffling his sobs against his own chest. Lance leaned into him limply and tried to choke it all back, but he couldn’t. “Lance, what makes you think you’re annoying? Did Pidge say that?”

“No, I mean, not really, that wasn’t… I was pestering her, Shiro, it’s true, Hunk was busy doing the engineering thing with those natives, and I wanted to do something with Pidge, but she didn’t want to, and I sh-should have l-left it alone, but I d-didn’t…”

Shiro sighed and rocked him a little. “You didn’t just tell her that you were lonely and homesick?”

Lance scoffed wetly. “No-o, I c-can’t just come out and say things like that…”

“Right.” Shiro sifted his fingers through Lance’s hair and looked at the ceiling as if he might find answers there. Seemed like Lance and Pidge had been working at cross-purposes and misunderstanding each other again. In normal circumstances they probably would have made up on their own in about five minutes, like any pair of temptuous childhood friends who declared that they hated each other one day and loved each other the next.

“You’re not gonna tell me what Pidge said that upset you so much?”

Lance shook his head against Shiro’s chest. Shiro blew out a breath. “Okay, then, I’ll just have to go ask Pidge.”

Lance’s fingers tightened in his shirt, and Shiro chuckled and rubbed his back. “No, I’m not gonna leave you. You’re coming with me.”

Lance groaned. “Don’t wanna…”

“Come on, buddy. The longer you two leave it, the worse it will be. Better to make up now. Hunk told me that Pidge is really upset, too. She already feels bad about what she said, but she’s too proud to chase you down. So we’ll go to her, okay? C'mon. I’ll be with you the whole way. Everything will be fine.”

Lance let out a mournful sigh, but let Shiro lever him to his feet. They walked out of Blue together, Shiro’s arm around Lance’s torso, Lance half-hiding his face behind Shiro’s shoulder like a shy toddler hiding behind an adult’s leg. Sometimes, Shiro reflected, these kids were a little too much like kids.

Somehow, he loved them anyway.

X

**[emerald-ashes](https://emerald-ashes.tumblr.com/) asked: If no one has asked yet...Please write the resolution to the Pidge and Lance fight? It's needs a happy ending! :)**

(Continued from [here](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159996928126/some-pidge-and-lance-angst-for-the-prompt) and [her](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159996924466/hey-i-simply-adore-your-writing-probanly-read-the)[e](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/159996924466/hey-i-simply-adore-your-writing-probanly-read-the).)

Lance felt supremely stupid, hiding behind Shiro like this as they shuffled through the halls, but he couldn’t help it. He felt kind of…crumpled up and used, like a tissue someone had blown their nose in. Having Shiro close by helped. He was so strong and steady, and the tightness of his arm around Lance’s waist made him feel safe, even from the thoughts in his head.

As promised, Shiro led the way directly to Pidge’s lab. Lance cringed involuntarily, somehow expecting her to yell at him the minute they crossed inside, but she didn’t. Pidge was sitting by her laptop, which was shut, and Hunk stood by her with his hand on her shoulder. Pidge’s head was down, her face buried in her hands, and Hunk’s eyebrows were bent in concern.

At their entrance, Hunk looked at them, then nudged Pidge’s shoulder. She held still for a moment, then looked up. Lance’s eyebrows rose. She looked like she had been crying, too. Well, Shiro had said that she felt guilty, but somehow Lance hadn’t believed it until he saw it. Pidge had just told the truth, after all; there was no reason for her to feel guilty.

But apparently she did. As soon as she saw him, Pidge’s face screwed up and her eyes filled with tears. “Lance,” she gasped out, and she jumped up from her computer chair and ran over to Lance and Shiro. Shiro backed off a bit, though he still kept a reassuring hand on Lance’s back, and Pidge ran into him with a thud that knocked his breath out, both arms wrapped around his middle.

“Lance, I’m sorry,” she babbled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I never should have said that. I was stressed because I spent all day looking through prisoner records trying to find my family, and some of the stuff in there is just so h-horrible, and I couldn’t help thinking… But that’s no excuse, it really isn’t. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, and I shouldn’t have said that I don’t want you to be my brother. That was cruel, and _mean,_ and it wasn’t even _true,_ and I’m so, so sorry.”

Shiro’s hand tightened on Lance’s back, and he drew in a sharp breath that sounded _furious_ when Pidge revealed just what she’d said earlier, but Lance didn’t care. His heart was lightening already, just to have Pidge forgive him for being such a nuisance. He put his arms around her in return and ducked his face against the top of her head.

“I’m sorry too,” he sniffled. “I shouldn’t have been bothering you all day when I knew you were working on something important. I just…I’ve been homesick lately, and…and you remind me of home. I didn’t mean to be so annoying. I’m sorry. I won’t bug you in the future.”

“Lance, no.” Pidge made a scandalized noise and leaned back so she could glare up into his face. Her small hands were tight on his arms, gripping like she would never let go. “Don’t say that. If you didn’t annoy me sometimes, you wouldn’t be  _you._  How many times have you come and dragged me away when I needed to eat, or sleep, or shower? I know I fuss a lot, but I’m grateful, I really am. And…and next time you’re feeling homesick, just _tell_  me, okay? You’re my friend. I want to help you, just like you help me.”

Lance didn’t quite believe all of this, but he dredged up a tremulous smile. “Okay. Thank you, hermanita.”

She drew in a quick, relieved breath, then dived in for another hug. Lance hugged her back, felt Shiro’s arm wrapping around him, too. After a moment, there was a high-pitched _awwww_  from Hunk, and he came over and joined the pile.

Lance closed his eyes and smiled. The ache in his chest hadn’t gone away, not really, but it was getting better.

 


	13. 2000 Followers Special, Day Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last batch! Ten little fics, all rather short. Now I'll go back to working on my other projects. Still a lot in the works.

**[i-got-zapped](http://i-got-zapped.tumblr.com/) asked: For the prompt, how about a sick Allura and Pidge? (Love all the prompts btw!)**

“Since we are both in quarantine now, I thought we might try to get to know each other better.” Allura was sitting primly on her bed with her legs folded beneath her almost in a yoga pose, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a genteel smile on her face.

Pidge blinked at her with gritty, sore eyes. She was sprawled out on her own bed like a sweaty starfish, the sheets seeming to scratch every inch of exposed skin. She sneezed explosively, then closed her eyes.

“…Or not,” Allura said, then sighed.

Pidge promptly fell asleep.

X

**[maternalcube](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/) asked: ooh, prompt: shiro and hunk on a roadtrip?**

“We’re out of beef jerky,” Hunk said mournfully, shaking the last crumbs from the bag into his hand.

“We’ll stop at the next gas station for more,” Shiro said absently. He was entirely focused on passing this douche in a jeep going ninety in the passing lane, what the hell.

“You’ve been saying that for fifty miles,” Hunk complained.

The douche cut Shiro off, and he swerved and swore, the car shaking madly as he brought it back on track. Hunk yelped and jammed his hands against the dash and the door, locking himself into place. “Forget the jerky! Just freaking let me drive instead!”

“No,” Shiro growled, bent over the wheel with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows bent. Sure, the highway wasn’t a racetrack, he knew that, but making good time was important. And he was going to make the _best_ time.

“I’m going to die in this stinky station wagon with six other people,” Hunk groaned, leaning back in his seat with tension in every line of his body. “I’m gonna die and you’re gonna kill me.”

In response, Shiro pulled his emergency Slim Jim out of his breast pocket and handed it over. Hunk sighed, momentarily mollified. Keeping his stomach moderately full, as well as sitting in the front seat so he could watch the road, were the best options for keeping his motion sickness under control.

But none of it was gonna matter if Shiro killed them all.

X

**Anonymous asked: I hope I'm not too late! For the three sentence prompt, could you write what you think happened when Haggar turned to the dark side and joined Zarkon?**

They stood on the command deck, watching the planet burn.

“Does it trouble you to see?” Zarkon asked, no sympathy in his voice, merely curiosity.

“No,” Haggar said, watching the fire with eyes that burned almost as brightly as the flames. “That place was never my home. I’m glad to see it gone.”

They said nothing else, only stood there side by side, the midwives of a new era born in blood and fire.

X

**Anonymous asked: Prompt: does shiro have any 'babysitting ' stories about Keith to share?:3**

“I don’t need your help,” Keith mumbled. He drooped to the side and almost fell over, and Shiro caught his arm and hauled him upright again before he hit the floor of the bus.

“You just had your wisdom teeth out and the sedative is messing you up,” Shiro explained patiently, as he had already done at least a dozen times. “I’m staying with you until I’m sure you’re safe to leave alone.”

Keith gave a long, exaggerated blink. His attention wandered away, and he blinked again in surprise and pleasure. “Oh hey. Look at all the pretty fish.”

“Those are cows, Keith.”

Keith pressed his nose against the window and stared longingly at the ranch as it passed out of view. “Fiiiisshhh.”

“Keith.”

“Shiro, I’m hungry.”

“We’ll get you some food when we get back to the Garrison.”

“I want ten fish sandwiches.”

“You can have some applesauce and a nap.”

Keith nodded slowly, nose still pressed to the window. “As long as I can keep the napkins. I need them for science.”

“Sure thing, buddy. Whatever you want.”

This was going to be a long day. Hilarious, though.

X

**Anonymous asked: 2000 followers special prompt: the paladins travel to Space IKEA**

Within five minutes, Lance had found ten items that they desperately needed. He brought the tags to Shiro and placed them in his hands for safekeeping, then went back for more. Shiro squinted at the names and descriptions on the tickets, but of course he couldn’t read it. “Lance!” he yelled, as Lance gravitated toward a bedroom set. “Allura and Coran sent us here for _spaceship parts.”_

“Hunk and Pidge have that covered down on the first floor!” Lance called back. “I’m just thinking ahead! We’re gonna need all of this stuff eventually!”

Shiro went to the balcony and peered down into the open floor below. Yep, there were Hunk and Pidge. They had found the equivalent of a trampoline and were jumping on it, laughing loudly, while Keith watched from the sidelines with his arms crossed over his chest and an eye out for danger.

Shiro closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. Quiznak give him strength. He was at Space IKEA with four toddlers.

X

**Anonymous asked: i dont know if this counts, and i dont know if its out of character but??? miCROFIC - boom crash verse: lance and jordan, they have a fight and lance has a panic attack**

“Lance, Lance?” Jordan’s voice, rising in concern. He reached out to touch Lance, then pulled back. Lance bent over himself with his hands pressed to his chest, struggling to breathe. Quiznak, it hadn’t been this bad for a really long time.

He hadn’t expected his stepbrother to be jealous of him, as well as glad to have him home. Lance the hero, Lance the warrior, Lance the savior of the universe. What a joke. He was just a scared, scarred kid with too many bad things in his head and coping mechanisms that only sometimes worked.

“Should I…should I get someone?” Jordan asked, shame in his voice. “Dad, maybe? Or…one of your teammates?”

Lance shook his head, forced out the words between gasps for air. “Don’t want to…bother them. Just…stay. Tell me…it’ll be okay.”

Jordan’s hand hovered in the air, then touched down on his back, soft and tentative. “It’ll be okay, Lance.” His voice was soft, too, but Lance could hear the sincerity there. “I’m sorry, so sorry, for what I said. But don’t worry about that right now. Just…just breathe, okay? You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

Lance closed his eyes and listened to his brother’s voice, did his best to hear nothing else, feel nothing else, just his voice and his hand. It was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

X

**[mikeybound](https://mikeybound.tumblr.com/) asked: How's this for a microfic? Keith triggers a painful Galra transformation. All at once or over a period of time.**

His teeth fell out first, replaced with sharper, more pointed ones. Something about his tongue changed, too, dulling some flavors and heightening others. A fine purple fuzz grew over his face and hands, and his sense of smell heightened to the point that being in the training room with four other sweaty people became nigh unbearable.

The most dramatic physical change were his ears, elongating over the course of weeks, tipped with fur, thin and membranous and shaped like satellite dishes, able to swivel independently. His height did not change, but his muscles shifted, making him better at charging, not as good at climbing. His nails were sharper, harder than before, dark blue instead of translucent. Lance helped him keep them trimmed and filed when the work became too much, too distressing for him to bear.

His eyes did not change, neither the color nor the clarity. As everything reshaped and reformed in subtle and less subtle ways, Keith’s eyes looked back at him from the mirror the same way they always had, dark with just the slightest sheen of violet. He wondered if they didn’t change because these had always been his correct eyes, the eyes of a mongrel alien.

When he had that thought, he stopped looking in the mirror for a long time.

X

**Anonymous asked: If you're still taking requests, can you do something fluffy and klance please?**

“Yo, Keet, pass me the rilik sauce, would ya?”

Keith didn’t even look up as he picked up the requested bottle and moved it closer to Lance’s plate. “Anything else for you, Yance?”

“I’m good.” Lance doused his food liberally with sauce, then stuffed a bite into his mouth.

Pidge watched them from across the table with narrowed eyes. “…This doesn’t feel right,” she said slowly. She looked up at Hunk, seeking corrobation. “Does it feel like they’re plotting something? It feels like they’re plotting something.”

Hunk was big-eyed and mushy, his hands clasped in front of his chest like he was looking at a basketful of kittens. “Look at ‘em, Pidge,” he whispered, choking up. “They’ve _bonded.”_

X

**Anonymous asked: Pssst you know that microfic you did with Hunk and Pidge, where Pidge falls asleep on Hunk? You mentioned something in it about making a food that was Coran's favourite. Maybe a sequel with Coran's reaction to when they got around to making it? ;0**

They had mixed up the measurements of some of the spices, that was clear to Coran the moment he smelled the dish. But both Pidge and Hunk were leaning over the table, watching for his reaction. So he smiled broad enough to break his face and ate his first bite. “Perfect,” he choked out. “Just like Mother used to make.”

His eyes were watering. Hunk and Pidge took it for an emotional reaction instead of a physical reaction, which was what he wanted. He ate every bite, grinning through the pain.

X

**Anonymous asked: I love all of your work! I was wondering if you could write one of your micro writings with Lance and Matt?**

“Hey, thanks for taking care of my little sister for me.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t expected Matt to come hunt him down and talk to him one on one. Surely he’d rather been spending time with Shiro and Pidge, right?

“Um, sure.” Lance rubbed his head. “It wasn’t much, but I mean…what makes you think I even tried? Pidge is her own person, pretty independent.”

Matt’s smile widened. “I can read between the lines. She won’t stop talking about you. Well, you and Hunk, but mostly you. You…raided a mall fountain for money to get her a video game, right?”

Lance nodded mutely.

Matt laughed. “Reminds me of the time I broke my piggybank to get her a robotics kit. It’s cool, man. She’s a brat. She needs a big brother. I’m glad you were there for her, and I hope you won’t stop looking out for her just because I’m back now.”

Lance smiled back, slow at first, then big and wide. “Sure thing. Wasn’t planning on it. Ever.”


	14. Keith's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked for Keith-centric prompts on tumblr and got some good ones, particularly smol!Keith eating cake. I was inspired by other prompts, too, such as DS!Keith having his first Earthling birthday and the team having a Skype call with Keith while he’s with the BoM during S4. Only ones I didn’t get in there was a surprise party and Keith stranded on puppy planet. 
> 
> Happy birthday, precious boy! Stay safe and come home soon.
> 
> Season 4 spoilers below.

They should have been more careful. This was Kolivan’s thought after every mission that went wrong, no matter how slightly. He was wise enough to know that everything was clear in hindsight, while the mission was much more chaotic. Even the most meticulous planning could not account for every possibility.

Still. Kolivan probably should have taken more steps to make sure young Keith did not come into contact with unknown quintessence. No one could have foreseen the consequences, but… Surely he could have done something.

Now, Kolivan shifted the human cub on his lap as Keith patted his tiny hairless paws on the table in front of him. Young Keith was…very young, now. Very, very young. The medics thought that the magic would wear off in half a quintent or so, but it was truly terrible, terrible timing.

“Bah?” Keith inquired, pointing at the box on the table.

Kolivan nodded solemnly. “Yes, this is for you. It is a care package your team sent for your birthday. I regret that I did not allow you to open it before the mission, as I fear you might not enjoy it in quite the same way now.”

Baby Keith blew bubbles through his lips and laughed at the funny sound it made.

Kolivan looked up at the young soldier who stood nearby, holding an unawakened blade. “Gartal, if you would do the honors?”

Gartal nodded and began to pry open the box with the tip of his blade. Kolivan bounced Keith on his knee and pulled his tiny paws back so he had no chance of getting cut by the knife. Keith whined and persisted, reaching toward the shiny blade and squeezing his fingers together several times.

“No, you may not have the knife,” Kolivan said. He patted Keith’s soft little head. Gartal set the blade hastily aside and reached into the box.

He produced several flat, colorful objects that seemed to be made of paper. There was writing on the outside, but it must have been in an Earth language, since Kolivan couldn’t read it. Gartal turned them over curiously, then set them aside. Unfortunately, he set the pile a little too close to this side of the table, and baby Keith picked up a bright blue square and started gnawing on the corner, drool dripping down his chin. Kolivan groaned his disapproval, and Gartal gave him an alarmed look and moved the rest of the paper farther away. He let Keith keep the blue one, though.

Next out of the box were several smaller boxes that seemed to be full of baked goods. Gartal set them aside, but put the biggest one down in the center of the table. “I think…this might be the one young Keith mentioned so wistfully at the beginning of the mission. He said Hunk might send him a cake.”

Kolivan nodded. “Open it.”

Gartal opened the box, slender fingers moving slowly and carefully, and brought out a large, lumpen mass. Kolivan could smell the sugar, as well as other flavors he couldn’t immediately place. In the center of the top was a length of wax laid on its side. Gartal lifted it up and stuck it into the cake so it stood upright. “This must be the candle.”

As soon as the cake was revealed, baby Keith’s eyes widened until they all but popped out of his tiny head. He dropped the blue square of paper with a loud noise. “Atch!” He reached out for the cake, squeezing his fingers again. Did Keith, even in this reduced form, remember that he had been hoping for a cake from his family at the Altean castle?

Kolivan ran a hand over his head, then nodded up at Gartal. “Please fulfill the ritual. Keith told you how it works, correct?”

Gartal nodded solemnly. He withdrew a sparklight from his belt and lit the string sticking out of the top of the candle. Immediately, flickering yellow light spread over the table, bringing a glow of friendliness and warmth.

“Aooahhhh,” baby Keith gurgled, patting his hands on the table. He bounced on Kolivan’s knee, trying to scoot closer to the cake. His smile was broad and bright and ridiculously endearing.

“There’s a song that goes with the ritual, isn’t there?” Kolivan asked.

Gartal nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but he didn’t sing it. I don’t know…” He looked back into the care package, and his eyes lit up. “Oh! Our needs were anticipated.”

He drew out an Olkari voice cube and set it down on the table next to the cake. When he activated it, several voices began to sing. Kolivan recognized each of the paladins, as well as the Altean advisor. It seemed the humans had taught their ritual song to their teammates. Well, it was only fitting.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Keith. Happy birthday to you!”

Such a simple song. But Keith laughed and clapped his hands, burbling his glee. Kolivan gently petted his head. His heart was warm.

More vocal messages followed.

“We love you, Keith!” “Hope your missions with the Blade are going well.” “You look super cool in the Marmora outfit, but your armor is waiting.” “Come home soon!” “Red misses you. We all miss you.” “I hope you like the cake!” “Be safe. Please.”

When the voices faded, Keith made a disappointed noise. “Unh!” He reached out for the cube, but got his hand stuck in the slice of cake Gartal had cut out and put in front of him. Distracted, he brought his messy hand back to his face and thrust his entire fist into his mouth. “Mnh!” And that was a noise of pleasure if Kolivan had ever heard one.

Gartal smiled gently. He sat down next to them at the table and activated the cube so they could listen to the messages again while Keith ate his cake, bubbling his happiness with the taste. He would certainly have to tell Hunk later that he liked his birthday treat very much. Very, very, very much.

Gartal and Kolivan had cake, too. It was strange to their senses, much too sweet and dense and cloying, but the ritual of friendship and celebration must be carried out for Keith’s sake. Kolivan didn’t mind, truly.

For the moment, at this table, the universe didn’t feel quite so large.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tattyboo03 asked:  
> Shiro and Lance (Lance shall suffer). Lance fell in a frozen lake and Shiro pulls him out? <3

“Lance. Lance!”

It was too late. Shiro could only stare as the ice cracked under Lance’s feet and he dropped into the water with a sudden shout. Shiro was moving before his brain fully processed what had just happened, hand reaching out as if he could recall Lance from the water just by wishing it.

Lance was a strong swimmer, but the cold instantly attacked him, dragging down his limbs and slowing his movements. He flailed frantically in the water, hands slipping off the edge of the ice as he tried to grab it, and his head went under the surface once, twice. Shiro carefully made his way back over the ice to get to him, feet spread to disperse the pressure of his steps. Still, the ice cracked ominously under his feet, and Shiro looked down nervously at the ice as he walked as quickly as he could.

He shouldn’t have left the kid so far behind. They’d been traveling through this icy waste for hours, looking for a lost villager from the town nearby. Another distress signal, another request for help they couldn’t refuse. No signs of life had shown up the scanners, but the Voltron crew agreed to go out and look, anyway. Hunk and Keith had taken their lions, flying over the wilderness in a grid pattern, while Pidge tried to modify the scanners and Allura monitored from the village. Meanwhile, Shiro and Lance had gone out on foot, knowing that it was a last resort and unlikely to lead to anything good.

Lance had started to flag about an hour ago, shivering and hugging himself. Shiro had spoken cheerfully, told him to keep moving, keep up, they would be back soon. Lance complained about how cold he was and how this was stupid and he didn’t want to do it anymore. Loudly. Eventually, Shiro started to tune him out. It was more important to keep his head on a swivel watching for the missing villager.

A few minutes before Lance fell through the ice, Shiro suddenly realized that Lance was quiet, and had been for quite some time. It was a worrying sign for someone who was usually so garrulous in both good situations and bad. It occured to him that Lance’s complaints of being cold and tired could have been more than adolescent whining, and he whirled around, heart in his throat. Just in time to hear the ice crack and creak, then see Lance, about a quarter of a mile back, suddenly fall through into the water below.

“Lance, stop trying to grab the ice!” Shiro called. “Just float on your back, can you do that, buddy? Try to relax and float. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sh-Shiro!” Lance called, voice pitifully stuttering. “I c-c-can’t…” He went under again, then bobbed up.

Shiro could have sworn that his heart stopped for a moment. “Yes, you can!” he yelled, suddenly furious. “Keep your head above water, soldier! I’ll be right there!”

He wanted to use his jetpack to get to Lance more quickly, but he didn’t know what would happen if he landed hard. The ice might break even more and drop him in, too. All he could do was keep moving, losing his breath every time Lance’s head disappeared below the water.

Shiro activated his comms. “Hunk, Keith! One or both of you get to my position, ASAP!”

“Did you find the lost villager?” Hunk asked, voice hopeful.

“No, Lance fell through the ice! We need extraction now!”

Hunk gasped, Keith cursed, and Shiro knew they were both on the way. He didn’t take his eyes off Lance bobbing in the water, not for a moment. His eyes hurt from keeping them open for so long in the frigid air.

Lance tried to take his instruction and float in the water, but he was so cold and shaking that he couldn’t seem to control his body very well. By the time Shiro finally got there, much, much too long later, Lance was barely holding onto consciousness. Shiro lay on his stomach next to the hole in the ice and stretched out his arm until he snagged one limp, frozen wrist. He hauled Lance bodily toward him, then out of the water, dripping and gasping.

Lance wasn’t shaking anymore, which was a bad, bad sign. Shiro scrambled up to his knees and grabbed his shoulders, then hauled them both backwards over the ice, sliding away from the hole. Lance’s breath was irregular, and his eyelids were fluttering, unable to keep open for long.

“Lance, Lance.” Shiro leaned over him, patting his cheek roughly with the flat of his hand. “Lance, stay awake, buddy. Help will be here soon.”

“Sh-Shiro…” Lance blinked up at him, almost completely out of it. “I f-fell through the i-ice…”

“Yeah, I know.” Shiro kept patting his cheek, not sure what else to do. He wanted to get Lance out of his frozen and dripping clothes, but he was afraid of exposing him to the air. The Altean technology was supposed to regulate their temperature, and it worked just fine underwater and in space, so he didn’t understand why it had failed now. Had something been wrong with Lance’s armor before they even set out on this walk? He should have been warm and toasty the whole way, as Shiro had been.

Lance shouldn’t have been complaining about the cold at all. He shouldn’t have been able to even feel it. Shiro should have realized something was wrong the moment Lance started to mutter about being chilly.

This was all his fault.

Lance closed his eyes, tears squeezing out of his eyes. “S-sorry. I messed up.”

“No, Lance.” Shiro patted his cheek again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident.”

“W-we didn’t find her… Her mom is gonna be so s-s-sad…”

The missing villager. A little girl. Shiro’s heart ached, but there was nothing else they could do about it. If they stayed out here any longer, Lance was going to die. That would be two lost instead of one, and that was completely unacceptable.

Lance worked his mouth, trying to speak again with his numb and frozen lips, already bluish-purple against his gray skin, but nothing came out. Finally, finally, Shiro heard the blessed sound of a Voltron lion roaring in the sky and looked up. The yellow lion descended almost directly on top of their position, and Hunk babbled frantically in his ear. “Get him in, get him in! I’ve got the heaters going full blast!”

The red lion wasn’t far behind, but somehow Shiro wasn’t surprised that Hunk and Yellow had found them first. He scooped up Lance in his arms and raced for the ramp as it lowered to meet them. Yellow hovered in the air above the ice as the creaks and snaps and groans in the surface grew exponentially louder. Just as the ice gave way beneath him, Shiro activated his jetpack and flew both himself and Lance the short remaining distance to the ramp. They rolled to a stop in a tangle of limbs, and Yellow pivoted away, ramp closing as Hunk began his run straight back to the castle.

Shiro picked Lance up again and sprinted to the cockpit, Lance’s limbs flopping in his messy grip. Hunk was looking over his shoulder in the pilot seat when he arrived, eyes wide and terrified. “Coran already knows what’s up, and he’s waiting for us. Get him out of his armor!”

Shiro didn’t have to be told twice. He laid Lance carefully down on the floor, then began to pull off his armor piece by piece. Sure enough, it was definitely malfunctioning, cold against his fingers even through his gloves. Hunk left Yellow to take them home and rushed to a compartment in the back of the cockpit, then began to pull out every single blanket Yellow carried.

When Shiro got Lance’s upper body stripped down to the skin, Hunk was already waiting with a blanket spread in his waiting hands. He lunged forward and started rubbing it all over Lance’s chilled flesh, wiping away the water and trying to warm him up with friction. Shiro stripped Lance’s lower body, then got another blanket and helped.

Lance was barely conscious through the entire procedure, watching them with half-lidded eyes and a bemused expression. “Wha…wha’s goin’ on?” he managed to ask at last.

Shiro, still rubbing his legs, barely paused to ruffle his hair, sending drops of icy water flying. “You fell through the ice. Remember?”

Lance shook his head, though his teeth were starting to chatter. Thankfully. Shiro was infinitely relieved to hear it. “I d-d-did?”

“Sure did, buddy,” Hunk said warmly, still rubbing roughly at Lance’s chest and back. “You really gave us a scare.”

“S-s-s-sorry.”

“That’s all right.” Shiro gave him a smile, strained and soft. “We’re just glad you’re gonna be okay. We’re heading back to the castle now, and we’re gonna get you wrapped up in a hundred blankets on a couch with some hot chocolate and a space heater. How’s that sound?”

Lance chuckled. “S-s-space heater.”

Shiro jerked out a little laugh, too. “Yep, a space heater.”

Lance grinned, fuzzy and overwhelmed, then went limp.


End file.
